Victimology
by Idan
Summary: Jane versus Bosco. This started out as a tag to 2x1, Redemption, but spans the entire Bosco arc.
1. Redemption

**Disclaimer** : Copyright, profit, ownership: these things do not belong to me.

 **Author's Note** : Somewhere in the back of my mind is the idea that I should write a tag for every episode. But some are definitely less inspiring than others. So I'm grateful for any spark of inspiration, however unlikely! Since I have less time to write these days and have another multi-chapter going, these tags will likely be short.

* * *

 **Redemption**

"You're not a detective," Bosco said, with the air of someone delivering a coup de grace. "You're a victim."

Jane concealed his recoil, maintaining his cool until the man left. He wouldn't let on how hard that word hit him.

Victim. It was much too close to the other labels he'd learned as a small boy that were meant for other people: sucker, mark, rube. His father had always drilled into him that if he wanted to be successful—and thus lovable—he must never, ever, be like the gullible sheep they fleeced.

To be a victim would mean he hadn't been smart enough, careful enough. Which was true, of course. He'd been an arrogant idiot, and his family had paid the price. But they were the victims. Not him.

He was the avenger.

Bosco would see that, with time. Jane would prove it to him and to everyone. He was more than an entertainer, more than the grief-stricken widower and bereaved father Bosco saw when he looked at him. Those were part of who he was, sure. They always would be.

But he refused to be defined by his losses. He chose instead to be defined by his quest to rid the world of an evil serial killer—plus bringing to justice whatever other criminals might cross his path in the meantime. He would uphold the law while it helped him find the man he needed to kill.

In Bosco's neat world of black and white, good and bad, people were one thing or another. That was why he couldn't see Jane for what he was. He couldn't distinguish the varied shades of grey in his identity.

It was a mystery to Jane what Lisbon saw in the man. There was a brutal streak in him, exposed as he taunted Jane with his own statements in the police interviews, made during that horrible black time of shock and loss and self-loathing. Most of the cops Jane had met sympathized with those who lost loved ones; Bosco seemed to be casting blame. Well deserved perhaps, but Jane was not about to allow a stranger the right to judge him.

How had his life at CBI turned upside down so quickly? All because he wanted to close the small cases quickly to leave more time for his hunt? It made no sense to him. Minelli was bowing to political pressure, and worse, he'd made Lisbon worry that she'd gone soft. She was doubtless going to try to hold him to the rules she'd decreed by the seaside eating strawberries. It would make his life less fun until she relaxed.

Speaking of Lisbon, it was time to get back to reminding her why she kept him around. He could tease her a little and regain his equilibrium, get rid of the sour mood Bosco had put him in. Then he'd put the finishing touches on the case and wrap it up neatly for her so they could get on to better things.

Jane squared his shoulders, summoned a smile, and left the rooftop cafe to go meet Lisbon at Jaffe Printing.

mmm

"If you sit down by a riverbank and wait long enough, you will see the bodies of your enemies float by." He'd always loved the quote, and it served nicely to annoy Lisbon. He was sure she didn't believe he was resigned to Bosco having the Red John case, but it was true he had no plan to fix the situation yet. He would wait. Something would come to him.

He did end up solving the case by waiting, as it happened. His Miles Thorsen gambit worked a treat. And one more family got some closure. Jane stayed on his side of the bullpen while Lisbon and Van Pelt walked them through it and showed them the video, using the distraction to launch his campaign to harass Bosco. He knew Bosco wouldn't bend to his will merely to stop petty annoyances, but it would keep him on edge, remind him that Jane had talents that could be put to better use.

He was not a victim. He might not be a detective, but he knew how to get what he wanted. And he would.

He accomplished his purpose of changing Bosco's passcode just as the family got up to leave, but he stayed on the phone looking busy so no one would try to thank him. Once the coast was clear, he headed to Lisbon's office.

"No case closed pizza?" he asked.

"Maybe tomorrow. It's late," she replied.

Van Pelt stuck her head in the office doorway. "Hey, Boss. My report's done."

Lisbon stretched out her hand to take the file. "Great. Why don't you go on home, then?"

"Thanks." She smiled and turned to go.

"Van Pelt?"

"Yes?"

"You did good work on this case." Lisbon didn't smile, but she was sincere.

Van Pelt lit up like she'd just been handed a bouquet. "Thanks. Good night, Boss, Jane."

"Goodnight," they chorused as she left.

Jane smiled, seating himself on the red couch, which had definitely seen better days. "Van Pelt the Victorious," he chuckled.

"She's coming along," Lisbon replied.

"And the management book you're reading said a little encouragement can produce heightened motivation," Jane added.

"No."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying," she retorted. After a pause, she admitted, "It was the book before this one."

"Ah. Well, it was right. Though I don't know why you read all those books when you have an expert available for advice on these matters," he said.

"True. But Minelli's a busy man," she replied.

Jane chuckled. "Care for a cup of tea? I think I'll brew a pot."

"No, thanks. I'm heading home in a bit." She typed something, frowning at her screen.

Jane wasn't ready for her to go. He was sure he could convince her to stay if he hit on the right conversational topic.

"It's nice, isn't it?" he mused. "When people get answers to their questions. When they can find out what their deceased loved one was thinking."

"Yeah. If only all our murder victims had the foresight to record a goodbye video," Lisbon said, only half joking.

What would Angela have said in a video, he wondered. Or Charlotte? She would have been full of instructions about looking after her dolls, perhaps. He was sure Angela would have urged him to go straight, live a good life, maybe find love again.

Well, at least he'd done the first part. Sort of.

"If everyone kept a goodbye video up to date, I could never have made a living as a psychic."

Lisbon looked at him, eyebrows raised. "I guess that's true. What else would you have done?"

"I was no good at acrobatics," he said thoughtfully. "I could have ended up an elephant trainer, I guess." How different a life he would have led. Would Angela have been swayed by an elephant trainer's charm? Maybe. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"If your mom had left a video, would it have changed things?"

She frowned as she thought it over. "Maybe we would have felt a little better. But I doubt it. We knew she loved us. It was never in question. And my dad had to know she wouldn't have wanted him to crawl into a bottle."

Jane made sure his tone was gentle as he asked, "Would it have helped if your dad had left one to explain himself?"

She shrugged. "No. I would still have been furious with him."

"But maybe you wouldn't have felt so guilty about leaving home."

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did. That's why you get that line between your eyebrows every time you talk to your brothers."

She rolled her eyes, but he could see he'd hit home. Her sharp tone confirmed it. "I already have to talk to one shrink a week. I don't need you trying to get into my head too."

He grinned. "No need to worry, Lisbon. My intentions are honorable."

"Uh huh." She turned off her computer and stood. "Good night, Jane."

"Good night, Lisbon."

She paused in the doorway, looking back at him. "Leave Bosco alone, Jane. Seriously. You're not going to convince him to let you in on the case."

"O ye of little faith." He gave her his cockiest grin. "See you in the morning."

Then she was gone, and he was left to ponder her warning. Maybe she had a point. Bosco was a tough nut to crack.

But his team might not be.

Jane grinned as he got up and headed for his couch. Tomorrow was shaping up to be a fun day.


	2. The Scarlet Letter

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the great response to this story! All the reviews and follows really encouraged me. And for those of you waiting for more Wild Card, I haven't abandoned it, I promise!

* * *

 **The Scarlet Letter**

His attempts to ingratiate himself with Bosco's team over the next few days failed, forcing him to reevaluate his strategy. He'd never paused to consider the fact that leaders build teams that reflect their own personality and style. Lisbon's caring and helpful people weren't an accident of fate and the personnel department; she'd chosen them for those qualities, consciously or not, and they followed her example. Likewise, Bosco's people were not only contemptuously judgmental but also followed his lead when it came to Jane.

He found it nearly impossible to sleep at night knowing there might be vital clues to Red John's identity escaping Bosco's team. The Kristin Marley case was a welcome distraction, but midway through he realized Bosco did have something new.

The man was out of his depth. Red John wouldn't be caught by normal methods; he was too smart. Jane couldn't stand by and let clues go uninterpreted. He needed to insert himself back into the case, however he could.

"Rebecca," he greeted Bosco's assistant, who was just getting up from her chair with a stack of files in one arm. And how, he wondered, did Bosco rate an administrative assistant when Lisbon didn't? Something he should look into. She could use the help with paperwork. But on the other hand, he would hate someone trying to control his access to her, the way Rebecca was unconsciously blocking the door to Bosco's office.

"Mr. Jane," she said, looking anxious. "Agent Bosco's not in. Can I help you?"

He flashed his most charming smile at her. "I certainly hope so. He asked to speak to me. You know," he dropped his voice into a confidential tone, "the Red John case. There's been a development."

She still looked wary, but the fact that he knew about the lead confused her into acceptance. "I can call you when he gets back."

"No need. He said he'd be along shortly and I should just wait in his office."

"I don't know." She hesitated, so such consideration was probably out of character for Bosco.

Jane used his confidence to overrule her caution. "I'd hate for us to keep missing each other. And I'm sure you're very busy; I don't want to take up your time. I'll just sit quietly until he joins me. I could do with some downtime, to tell you the truth."

"Okay, I guess. Don't touch anything," she warned.

"No touching." He held up his hands and grinned at her. Then he went into the office and sat meekly in a visitor's chair until he was sure she was gone.

He had a longer wait than anticipated, and when Bosco finally arrived, he was not only in a foul mood, but he had obviously figured out Jane was behind the trouble with his passcode. "Stop hacking my passcodes, and stop hustling my people. It's not doing you any good, you know."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jane lied. He'd try the direct approach and offer Bosco an obvious way to stop this ridiculous war of wills. "What'd you get on Red John?"

"Now what makes you think I got anything?"

Cops. They were such comically bad liars. "The folder. You moved it when you saw me, protected it. It's the one thing you'd protect from me. It's the coverup that gave you away."

There. He'd been honest and demonstrated his skill and attention to detail. Lisbon would be proud, except of course that she'd told him to leave Bosco alone.

"Huh," Bosco said.

Jane let himself hope the man was seeing reason. "What is it?"

"It's none of your business. So go."

Apparently the man was doubling down on his idiotic stance. Jane squelched his frustration and focused on projecting a serious, helpful expression. "You need to understand something. Red John doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't leave clues. If you have new evidence, it's because he wants you to have it. The question isn't what does it mean, it's why did he give it to you."

"That's deep."

"Tell me what it is. I can help you."

"Have you ever seen a crack addict when they're begging for a hit? You've got that same look in your eye that they get."

Jane's phone began to ring. Ah, Van Pelt must be at Kristin Marley's place. "You've got me all figured out," he said to Bosco before answering it.

Van Pelt's news confirmed his nascent hunch that the case was being monitored by someone other than Minelli, and far more closely. Jane filed that away as he hung up and turned back to Bosco.

"Bad news, huh?" Bosco needled him.

"No, not at all." It was far more useful than the removed item would have been, possibly.

"It's like you said," Bosco replied smugly. "It's the coverup that gave you away. You're an addict, Jane. You need help."

Jane brushed off his annoyance that Bosco insisted on finding labels for him, trying to reduce him to a one-dimensional construct. "You're making a mistake."

"You can go," Bosco said, as if he were in authority. He stood, adding an implied physical threat to his command.

Jane paused for a moment, purely out of principle, before leaving. Obviously there was nothing more to do here.

As he walked back to his couch, Jane took some time to ponder Bosco's dislike. It was more than professional distaste; it felt personal. Curious. Jane had zero interest in Bosco personally. What had caused the man to take such an emphatic dislike to him? He would need to figure that out to overcome it. He needed Bosco to stop labeling him as a victim or an addict and see him as a potential asset, but first Bosco had to stop refusing to even entertain the thought.

Shortly thereafter, Jane nearly was a victim after all, courtesy of the fixer, Art Cavalerri. How pathetic would it have been to die by a letter opener? His calm wasn't helped by the fact that he knew Lisbon's disgust covered real fear as she obeyed the ersatz janitor's instructions to cuff herself to the door.

He got a sort of posthumous revenge, though, by using his attacker's corpse to catch Kristin Marley's killer. The fact that the murderer was a politician was icing on the cake.

But the best part of the case was that it gave him the means to spy on Bosco and his team. Planting the bug with a doughnut misdirect was laughably easy. As he lay on his couch and listened to them discuss the evidence, Jane couldn't help a smirk. Who was the victim now, Bosco?

He was proud of himself for coming up with a solution to get what he wanted without upsetting Lisbon. But mostly he was enjoying getting one over on the contemptuous cop.

He'd forgotten how plodding regular police work could be, though. He'd long ago skipped these sorts of discussions with his own team, trusting them to do what they needed to do and extracting the information he needed afterward. They had adapted to his methods very quickly once they saw how effective they were.

So why was Bosco ignoring what he had to know could be a valuable resource? Obviously he didn't believe Jane was the source of his team's unrivaled closure rate. What did he attribute it to, then? Lisbon's leadership?

Ah. Perhaps that was the source of Bosco's animosity. He and Lisbon had known each other for a while, apparently. Did Bosco see him as a detriment to Lisbon? Ridiculous, of course, but people often told themselves ridiculous stories to explain things they didn't understand.

He should look into this. Bosco and his team didn't have anything he could work with, at least not yet. Forensics weren't his way of solving a case. His time would be better spent probing Bosco's psyche, as distasteful as that might be.

"Ah, Lisbon. Excellent timing," he said with his eyes still closed. "I wonder if you'd enlighten me about something."

"Leave Bosco and his team alone," she grumbled. "Minelli's pissed enough about the way this case went down. Don't make it worse."

Jane opened his eyes. "We busted a murderer and her accessory after the fact. Just because they happened to be high powered statehouse types shouldn't make him unhappy."

"What's making him unhappy is that the very expensive attorney they've hired is all over your little trick with the corpse. This case is going to be the top story in the news for a while, and it's not going to make the CBI look good," she replied.

"We used the tools at our disposal to get justice for an innocent young woman whose promising life was cut tragically short," Jane said. "We did our job."

"Yes, we did. But appearances matter, Jane. And the people who control our funding will be paying special attention to this. We'll be lucky if we don't end up buying our own office supplies."

"Meh. You need paper clips, Lisbon? I'll buy you some."

"And bullets? And software upgrades?" she retorted.

"Half a day in a casino and you'll have everything you need," he promised.

She looked tempted to take him up on it, and he made a mental note. She wasn't a woman to be swayed by flowers or jewelry, but maybe a nice stapler would do the trick next time he wanted her forbearance.

No, not a stapler. She'd probably throw it at him next time she was annoyed.

"Just please don't make any trouble for a while. And do not talk to the press!"

"Never fear." He yawned. "I'll leave them alone if they leave me alone."

"Leave everybody alone," she suggested.

"Afraid I'll get Bosco into trouble?" Jane decided to get back to his original purpose.

"If you do, you'll be in trouble too."

"Aw, Lisbon. And here I thought I was your favorite pain in the ass."

She snorted, and he grinned.

"Just try to behave for the rest of the day," she ordered.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll behave like the most boring consultant in the world if you'll tell me how to change Bosco's mind."

"Yeah, right."

"I know you know how," he said in a sly tone sure to get under her skin.

To his surprise, a flash of apprehension crossed her face. "You're supposed to be the mentalist. You figure it out. And no hypnotism!"

"Yes, ma'am," he called after her as she stormed off.

Well, that was intriguing, he thought. Lisbon and Bosco were more than just acquaintances or coworkers, apparently. That was worth looking into for sure.

He loved a good mystery. Especially when it involved his favorite detective. And this would be an interesting challenge, since neither Bosco nor Lisbon was likely to tell him about their personal history.

It was a good thing he'd cultivated the gate guards over the years. They always had the latest gossip.

And if that didn't work, he'd make Van Pelt curious enough to do a little digging on her own.


	3. Red Badge

**Author's Note:** This one got away from me a little! Red Badge is a favorite and I apparently had a lot to say. Thanks for your support of this story, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Red Badge**

As it turned out, researching Lisbon's history with Bosco required almost no effort. Tommy the gate guard knew they'd both been cops in San Francisco and joined CBI at about the same time, and Cathy down in evidence was happy to gossip about the fact that Lisbon had been promoted to her former boss' equal while he seemed content to stay where he was.

And then they found McTeer's body, and Van Pelt didn't have to be prompted to research. Nothing she learned surprised Jane, but he felt the need to integrate this new information into the Lisbon suite in his memory palace. Playing a harmless game distracted her from the case for a minute and gave him the chance to read how she felt about that particular piece of her past.

Plus he got to call her Saint Teresa, which was amusing.

He concluded happily that she wasn't nostalgic for the old days and that she regarded Bosco as a valued colleague but nothing more. There were secrets shared, but they were no doubt work related, not personal.

That was a weight off his mind. He wouldn't have to worry about alienating Lisbon by manipulating someone she had unresolved feelings for or would feel compelled to defend.

Now Bosco, on the other hand, was definitely nostalgic. That was useful information. Jane filed it away and got to work on the case.

mmm

The news that Lisbon's fingerprint was found on the murder weapon was surprising and curious, but Jane wasn't immediately alarmed. He crashed the meeting in Minelli's office more to annoy Bosco than because he was worried about Lisbon. But he soon realized there was something going on with her.

Jane ignored Bosco and focused on Lisbon. She was evasive and doing her best to hide something. This was bad. He needed to find out what was going on with her, but she refused his offer of help retrieving her memory, so he retreated to his couch to wait.

Really, the woman was maddening. He'd killed his best lead yet to save her life, but she still couldn't turn to him when she needed help. She'd even tried the despised shrink first after failing the polygraph. He'd be hurt if he weren't so worried about her.

Carmen must not have been able to help, because Lisbon's distinctive footsteps approached about fifteen minutes earlier than he'd estimated. He pretended to be asleep until she said his name. "Oh hey, Lisbon," he murmured, not looking at her so as not to spook her. "I imagine you want me to hypnotize you now."

See? He wouldn't even make her say it. He could be considerate. He could be a good friend, when he chose. And for Lisbon, he chose.

He'd had few true friends in his life. He was a showman, and while he'd had his family, he'd had no need of anyone else behind the curtain with him. Sam and Pete were the only people he'd call friends outside the CBI. And while he embraced Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt as people he would do anything for and whom he could count on if he needed help, Lisbon was the one he trusted with his secrets. That was partly because she was the leader, but it was mostly because she was honest, loyal, and kind.

No one was going to make her a victim while he was still breathing.

He didn't say any of this to her, of course. She held his words cheaply; it was his actions she gave weight to.

As she directed him to her place, he took in her neighborhood with a critical eye. He'd had the impression that his colleagues were all ridiculously underpaid, but he'd expected her to live in a secure building or gated community, given her profession. The nondescript townhouse with a glass door, measly deadbolt, and unsecured windows sent a chill down his spine. Red John wouldn't even find this place a challenge if he ever chose to break in. Jane almost wished he'd never seen her home; he was certain it was going to feature in his worst nightmares from now on.

Lisbon was as nervous as he'd ever seen her. He needed to break through her tension and desperation so he could put her into a trance. He was mildly anxious about his ability to do that, given her resistance to the idea until now and her general strength of will and control freak tendencies. But he'd been laying the groundwork a long time, studying her reactions to him, and he had a plan.

"I'm not going to hypnotize you, Lisbon. You're too stressed," he lied, drawing her into a familiar feeling of frustration with him and then pitching his voice to reassure her.

It was easier than he expected. No matter what she said, she did actually trust him, deep down where it counted. He knew that, but it warmed him to see how easily she slipped under, then relaxed against him in sleep. He took a moment to savor being close to someone he cared about, then led her to the chair she obviously spent the most time in and got down to business.

Of course it couldn't be easy. Her memories weren't blocked; they didn't exist. He'd known it was a possibility, but the reality left him with no immediate plan. It was telling, though. How many people had the knowledge and access to drug Lisbon to prevent her remembering that night? It couldn't be many. "It's interesting," he said, pondering the puzzle. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's interesting." She didn't sound interested. "Well, you know, thanks for trying. You probably have, uh, somewhere you need to go."

"Well, I'm not going to give up that easily."

Her voice was a little unsteady, but it wasn't until she spoke again that he registered her emotional state. "I can count on you not to tell anybody about this, right? On the team?"

"Oh, Lisbon," he said, caught off guard by her vulnerability. "Hey." He reached for her, wanting to give her the hug she so badly needed, but she shied away.

"Jane, I just need you to leave, okay? Could you please go?" she managed to say.

He would do whatever she asked him right now, even though he hated it. But he had to make sure she knew he wasn't giving up. "All right. It's going to be okay. It's going to be fine, all right? I promise. Okay?"

He rarely made promises because he took them so seriously. He never used those words to deceive. When she calmed down, he hoped she would realize that and find comfort in it.

Closing the front door behind him and knowing she was crying on the other side felt like a sucker punch. He hesitated for a moment, trying to order his thoughts and master his impulse to turn around and go back in. Lisbon was intensely private and hated to show anything that could be seen as a weakness. She wouldn't give into her fear and despair unless she was alone, and she needed to cry those out.

He walked slowly toward his car, his brain sorting through possibilities. Drugs were easy enough to get, but access to get them into Lisbon without her knowledge was much more difficult. He could do it, of course; she constantly had a cup of the vile office brew on her desk. And it wasn't unusual for him to bring her a cup of tea when she worked late. But the only other people who were regularly in her office were Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt, and they weren't under suspicion.

If not her office, then where? Not her home, for sure. Their work outside the office was erratic, unpredictable, an unlikely choice for someone trying to drug her, unless of course it was a conspiracy comprising every coffee shop in California.

Where else was a possibility? She wasn't the type to stop by a bar on her way home with any regularity—as far as he could tell, she made only sporadic attempts at a personal life. She didn't pamper herself with regular trips to a salon or spa. She took the occasional random yoga class, but she didn't have a guru or a therapist or—

Jane stopped in mid stride. Of course. He should have figured it out immediately. Carmen had regular access to Lisbon, extensive knowledge of pharmaceuticals, and a coffee machine in his office. And he was a quack, as Jane knew from his single visit. Any shrink who would sign off on him so quickly yet refuse to do so with Lisbon was either an idiot, up to something, or both.

Motive was the only remaining question, and right now it was irrelevant. All Jane cared about was getting Lisbon out of this mess.

He turned and hurried back to her door. It was locked, which was only a minor annoyance to someone with his skill set. But as he pushed the door open and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun, he belatedly realized breaking into a cop's house while she was home might be a good way to shorten his life dramatically.

"Geez, Jane!" Lisbon swore, yanking the weapon up to point at the ceiling. "What part of 'leave' don't you understand?"

The flash of annoyance in her eyes was a welcome change from tears, and he felt encouraged. "I did leave. But I came back. I know who's framing you."

"Who?" she demanded.

"Are you going to let me in first?"

Her eyes narrowed, but she stepped back so he could enter and close the door.

"Thank you," he said. Judging that she might shoot him if he kept her in suspense any longer, he said, "Carmen."

She frowned in confusion, then said, "Roy Carmen? He's the CBI shrink—why would he set me up?"

"That part I haven't figured out yet. But it makes sense."

"Right. It makes sense for him to frame me," she scoffed. Then she took a deep breath. "Jane, just because you don't like him doesn't make him a criminal."

"No, the fact that he's a quack who forces you to visit his office every week for no good reason, where you undoubtedly drink some of his coffee, and the fact that he has access to a wide array of drugs to tamper with your ability to form long-term memories makes him guilty. Or, if you insist on technicalities, the prime suspect."

She stared at him with a frown of concentration while she considered what he'd said. "Okay, it's worth looking into. Tell Bosco."

Jane rolled his eyes. "Right, because he'll take my word for it. If I were going to tell anyone, it'd be Cho. But I'm not, because we don't have any evidence. So we've got to set a trap."

"Of course." Lisbon put her gun down on the table near the door and went into the living room.

Jane followed, not liking the slump in her shoulders. "You do not look like a woman catching sight of her deliverance."

"It's just a theory, Jane."

"Technically, it's just a hypothesis until we've tested it against the evidence," he pointed out to annoy her.

"Whatever. It may or may not be true."

Jane began to see what was going on. "And you think I'd say or do anything to clear you, regardless of the truth."

"No," she replied unconvincingly.

"Which is true, of course. I can't be wasting time breaking in a new unit leader when I need to focus on Red John."

She let out a snort. "Yeah."

"But you need to know the truth. Because you're doubting yourself, no doubt courtesy of Dr. Carmen."

"If I can't remember, how can I know?" she asked, dropping into the chair.

"Meh. When are you going to stop focusing on so-called evidence and look beyond to the essential truths?" He tried to keep his frustration out of his voice. "I know you didn't do it, Lisbon."

"No, you don't. You believe it. That's different." She leaned back as if trying to disappear into the cushion.

"Lisbon, how many times have you seen me read someone at a glance?" He stared at her until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. "A few minutes at most? You've even seen me do it from photos. I've known you for years. I know you, Lisbon. And I know you didn't do this."

"How?"

He gave her a reproachful look. "You're not a killer, Lisbon."

"I've killed people."

"To protect other people, as part of your job."

She scowled. "Killing McTeer did protect other people. Kids."

"Yes. But whoever killed him lured him into that alley, hid the body close to our office, dumped the gun nearby, and then called in an anonymous tip. Even if I stretch the bounds of credulity and say you did the first, you'd never do the second, third, and fourth. Besides, you forget: I was there when you saw the body. You were surprised."

"Yes, I was. But that doesn't mean I didn't do it. It just means I blocked it out so I couldn't remember."

Jane looked at her, seeing her real distress. Her father must have had blackouts while drinking, leading her to believe she might have the potential to do the same. "If you were repressing the memory, I'd have seen that when I hypnotized you. The memories would have been accessible. Not easily accessible, but there. You have no memories. The only way that can be is if you were drugged."

"Or drunk?" She bit her lip.

Jane shook his head. "You'd remember starting to drink, or at least going somewhere to do so. No. You were drugged. It took effect shortly after your appointment with Carmen. He's the logical suspect."

Lisbon looked torn, wanting to believe him but afraid she might be guilty. Why was it that only good people felt guilt, he wondered. "Listen to me, Lisbon. You keep me around because I know how people behave. You do not have it in you to kill in cold blood, in such a devious, premeditated way. If you decided to kill McTeer, you'd be straightforward about it. And you'd accept the consequences, not waste police resources on a needless investigation. You're a good person."

"Good people can kill."

"Absolutely. But you're a rational person in control of your impulses, with enormous personal integrity. You're naturally honest. You don't fit the profile for McTeer's killer. But Carmen does."

"How?" Hope was beginning to seep into her voice, he realized with relief.

"Thinks he's smarter than everyone else. Used to pulling people's strings. He's well aware of the dangers of rationalizing his actions but mistakenly thinks that prevents him from doing it."

Lisbon suddenly looked as if something amused her. "Sounds like someone else I know."

Jane grinned, delighted to see the return of her sense of humor. "Ah, but with one crucial difference. I wouldn't frame an innocent person." A guilty one, yes, but that was splitting hairs.

She sobered. "No. You wouldn't."

"The question now is, was the murder or the frame up the main goal?"

"Carmen has no motive to do either."

"Maybe. He might be doing this as an accomplice, or a hired gun. So that brings us to the question of who wants you arrested, Lisbon."

She shrugged, but frowned in concentration. "Probably lots of people I've put away."

"Meh, easier ways to get revenge." This was quite an elaborate scheme, after all. "This feels like a means to an end, not the end itself."

"To get me off a case? We're not working anything big at the moment. And it's not like Cho isn't perfectly capable of leading the team in my absence. He might even be able to keep you in line." She looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Unless this is meant to distract you."

"Red John? No. The frame would be much better. So far all they have is a single fingerprint and no alibi. Hard to convict you on just that," Jane replied, tapping his lips with a finger. "Maybe it's a case we've already closed that hasn't gone to trial yet. Discrediting your testimony?"

Lisbon's eyes widened. "Of course. Howard. He'll probably get off without my testimony. And he has money. Son of a bitch. But why would Carmen work with him?"

"Maybe he doesn't know. Anyway, the why isn't as important as getting a confession."

"And how do you plan to do that?" She folded her arms.

He grinned. "Oh, you are not going to like it."

mmm

Lisbon's performance at the CBI was just right. Jane was proud of her; this was the part of the plan he'd been most worried about. But as Cho escorted her from the building, leaving Jane alone in her office with Bosco, he was sure it was going to work.

"Happy now?" Bosco demanded.

It took Jane a second to realize Bosco wasn't referring to the plan, which he didn't know about. "What do you mean?"

"You don't know when to stop. You just keep pushing, don't you?" Bosco growled. "And now you've pushed her over the edge."

"Me?" Jane was genuinely surprised.

"You messed with her head, didn't you?" Bosco's fists clenched, and Jane began to seriously worry about getting punched.

"No, I didn't." Jane let his own anger show. "Why would I do that?"

"Why do you pull any of your cheap stunts?" he retorted.

"To solve cases and catch bad guys," Jane shot back. "All of which would be harder without Lisbon. You want to help her? Figure out who benefits from this. It certainly isn't me."

He left, trying not to look like he was escaping, and went to follow Lisbon home and ensure the staging was perfect. Then it would be time to get Minelli to send Carmen into their trap. Things were coming together nicely. He just hoped Bosco didn't find some way to interfere.

mmm

Jane let Cho and Rigsby into the townhouse while Lisbon was upstairs putting pants on. He handed Cho the tape of the confession while Rigsby hauled the handcuffed Carmen to his feet, none too gently. Lisbon had already given Carmen the punch he deserved, so Jane refrained from further punishment, though he bet Cho and Rigsby would find ways to make him more uncomfortable than necessary.

Lisbon hurried down the stairs as they were in the doorway. "Thanks, guys."

Rigsby smiled at her as Cho said, "Welcome back, Boss."

When they were gone, Jane said, "Bravo, Lisbon. Seriously."

"Thanks." She looked pleased, then bit her lip and took a deep breath. "And thank you, Jane. I...I would have been in real trouble without your help."

That was hard for her to admit, he knew. "You're very welcome, Lisbon. I'm glad to help. Anytime."

He was always going to save her, whether she wanted him to or not. It was the only thing he was completely sure of, besides the fact that he would kill Red John when he found him.

She smiled. "Easier than breaking in a new boss, hm?"

"Much. Besides, your acting is really coming along. Someday you may even be able to pull off a psychic show."

"Ha, ha." She rolled her eyes. "Well, for now I'll settle for being a CBI agent. See you tomorrow."

He didn't really want to leave, but she needed her rest. She should be able to sleep now. "Sweet dreams, Lisbon."

"You too," she called as he headed for the door.

Her smile as he looked over his shoulder was one he was sure he would want to revisit. Maybe he would get some sleep tonight too.

mmm

Bureaucratic rigamarole meant it was the next evening before Lisbon was allowed to move back into her office. Jane had circled restlessly as the team tied up all the loose ends and paperwork while Lisbon went through her reinstatement process. When it was all over but the unpacking, he decided a celebration was in order. All was right with their little corner of the world again, and the bad guys were behind bars.

They'd had case closed pizza even though, as Rigsby pointed out with his mouth full, it hadn't actually been their case to close. So Jane went to Marie's for something sweet to round off the day.

As he approached, he saw Bosco in Lisbon's office and felt a twinge of territorial annoyance. Then he realized it wasn't the office he felt territorial about. Bosco was standing way too close to Lisbon, his body language telegraphing intimacy.

He was a married man, Jane huffed to himself. He had no business in Lisbon's personal space.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Jane asked as he breezed in, turning to face Bosco.

"No," Bosco replied. "Good night, Lisbon."

Jane's gaze followed him as he left. "Night, Sam," he murmured, to make the point that Bosco had churlishly omitted him from his good night wish.

Lisbon busied herself with her box, and Jane held out the bag to her. "Doughnuts from Marie's."

She took the bag eagerly and took out her favorite, which he'd made sure was on top.

"I didn't see it. Of course," Jane remarked.

"What?" Lisbon asked before tearing into her doughnut.

"He's in love with you."

"Don't be silly," she scoffed.

"I know, hard to fathom," he continued. "But there's no accounting for taste, is there?"

Lisbon tossed the bag to him, relieved to think he was just teasing her. "Hush!"

Jane left, then paused just outside her door, thinking. Were Bosco's feelings returned? Surely not, but if so, he'd better take that into account. He stuck his head back in the door to observe her for a few more seconds.

Lisbon was completely unconcerned by his observation, focused on unpacking. Jane left again, relieved.

It wasn't that he didn't want her to find romance. She deserved every good thing in life. But she could do so much better than Sam Bosco. Besides, she'd never have an affair with a married man. The idea would repulse her.

But Jane now knew exactly why Bosco disliked him so much. Jane occupied the privileged place of leading man in Lisbon's life, the place Bosco coveted for himself but couldn't have. Of course he despised him.

The information didn't suggest a solution, at least not immediately. Jane would have to think about how to use this insight to cajole Bosco to let him consult on the Red John case.

As he settled on his couch, it occurred to him that he and Bosco had something in common: they were both far more attached to Teresa Lisbon than they had any right to be. And neither of them were likely to be good for her.

He had just demonstrated that he would defend her, though. Bosco would have to grudgingly give him points for that. He may have only gone from "victim" to "occasionally useful pain in the ass," but at least he'd made progress. He would have to find a way to build on that. It would take some time, but he could do it.

Jane closed his eyes with a sigh of contentment.


	4. Red Menace

**Author's Note:** This episode isn't a favorite, and it didn't have any Bosco in it, but of course Jane would have been thinking and plotting through it. Hopefully this tag is something that could easily have happened after the episode!

* * *

 **Red Menace**

Jane sauntered into the CBI, enjoying the effect his hat had on passersby. Who'd have thought a classic fedora would attract so much attention? He thought he'd make less of a stir with a stab wound.

Getting revenge for Felicia Guthrie helped him feel better about the case. He hated it when his work made a kid's life worse. Though he was sure Lucas Hodge's mother would find a pricey lawyer, and maybe they'd get the charge down to manslaughter, or perhaps an insanity plea. The kid could use some time in a therapist's office, Jane thought.

As he got off the elevator and started down the hall, he was pleased to see the lights still on in Lisbon's office. He couldn't wait to see her reaction to the hat. But as he got close, he realized she wasn't alone.

Bosco was sitting in her visitor's chair, leaning back and looking annoyingly at home. His relaxed posture suggested he'd been there a while and that they weren't discussing an open case.

This was one of those times Jane wished he was a wild animal. If he and Bosco were stags, they'd clash their horns in a magnificent display that would ring through the forest and impress the green-eyed doe watching nearby. But since they were humans, any open attempt Jane made to drive Bosco out of his territory would only piss Lisbon off. Come to think of it, she wasn't the least bit doe-like. More like a wolf, or maybe a jaguar.

"Good evening, Lisbon. Sam." Jane nodded to them to draw attention to the hat as he sauntered into the office.

Bosco's mouth fell open, which was gratifying, but Jane was far more interested in the way Lisbon's pupils dilated. "Where have you been?" she demanded.

"Out and about. There's a lamentable lack of millinery establishments in Sacramento, did you know that?"

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, forgetting Bosco's presence almost entirely. "What have you been up to?"

He grinned. "What makes you think I've been up to anything?"

"It's never a good sign when you start pulling out props," she replied. "Spill, Jane."

"I assure you it's nothing you'd disapprove of," he lied. "Just tying up some loose ends in the case. Anyway, I thought I'd celebrate with pastries. Want anything from Marie's?"

"Now you're scaring me. I'm not going to get a call from the AG or anything, am I?"

"Of course not. There will be no paperwork as a result of my evening. I'm merely in the mood for something sweet. I'll get you a latte and a bear claw," he decided. Then he turned to Bosco. "Would you like anything, Sam?"

"No thanks," he muttered.

"Are you sure? I could pick up a fruit cup to fit your diet. You know, so you won't feel like you're committing adultery."

Rage flared in Bosco's eyes, and he got slowly out of his chair, doing his best to loom over Jane. Lisbon sounded faintly alarmed as she reproved, "Jane."

"No?" Jane said to Bosco, pretending not to notice he'd infuriated the man. Really, it was laughably easy to do. "Okay. See you later."

"Jane!" Lisbon snapped in the tone that meant a reprimand would follow shortly. "Sit. Now."

Bosco smirked as he passed Jane, calling, "Night, Lisbon."

"Night, Bosco," she replied as the door swung shut behind him. "What the hell was that, Jane?"

"Lisbon," he protested, taking a seat, "all I did was offer to fetch tasty treats."

"And accuse Bosco of adultery!"

"I did no such thing. I merely alluded to a joke he made comparing a hot dog to adultery. Poor taste, I thought, but perhaps he was not so subtly pointing out that he has a wife to care about such things, whereas I no longer do."

Lisbon stared at him for a few seconds, mouth slightly open. It was rare he truly stunned her, but he was careful not to look like he was enjoying it. Did she really fail to realize Bosco had a cruel streak? No, she knew—she wasn't doubting his story. She merely tried not to think about it, he decided.

"I'm...sure he didn't mean it that way," she said, trying to sound like she believed it.

"Really? Since he went on to taunt me with what I said in the police interviews and then told me I wasn't a detective, I was a victim, I think it's not unreasonable to take it that way." He lounged in the chair, crossing one leg over his knee, to display complete unconcern with Bosco's opinions.

Lisbon's expression softened into compassion anyway. "That conversation went way worse than I thought. How come you didn't tell me this before? You passed it off with a joke."

Jane shrugged. "It doesn't involve you. At least, it didn't until you decided to scold me for not playing nice. At the risk of sounding childish, I didn't start it." For some reason, he wanted to make sure she knew that.

"No, you wanted something from him, so I'm sure you tried to be nice at first," she sighed. "I told you it was a waste of time, Jane. In Bosco's eyes, you're either a cop or you're not. There's no in between."

"His loss," Jane said.

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "I'd try talking to him if I thought it would do any good."

Jane shook his head. "Not your battle to fight, Lisbon. I'm a big boy; I'll sort out my own problems."

She gave a wry little half smile. "Uh huh. If you do it like you solve cases, at some point I'm going to need my gun."

He chuckled. "I'll try not to let it get out of hand. Bosco respects competence, so that's what I need to demonstrate."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Oh, I'm sure the opportunity will arise." He grinned at her as he stood up, then swept off his hat and leaned over to place it on her head. "Looks good. You should wear hats, Lisbon. They become you."

She made a face at him that he found adorable rather than intimidating as she tossed the hat back to him. "No thanks."

"Latte?" he offered.

"Decaf."

"Of course." He smiled at her as he opened the door.

There was no traffic this time of night, so it took hardly any time to run to Marie's and fetch her a decaf and bear claw, plus breakfast treats for himself and the team. He was pleased to find her office devoid of visitors when he returned, leaving his hat in the car this time.

"Your evening treat," he said, presenting the bag and cup.

She took them eagerly. "Thanks." The latte was first, and she closed her eyes as she sipped and hummed with pleasure. Then she looked at him, tilting her head a little. "How come you've never asked me if Bosco's updating me on the case?"

Jane was surprised. "I assumed you'd tell me if you knew something."

She was pleased with his answer, he could see. Then she looked suspicious. "Because I'm such a bad liar?"

"Because you're honest and loyal. And because you want to bring Red John to justice, and you know I can help with that." He settled into his chair with his tea and blueberry muffin.

She smiled, then took another sip. "Well, as it happens, Bosco hasn't talked to me about anything new. Just gone over some of the old stuff."

"Ah. He wanted to know how solid my alibi was for the first few murders." Jane tamped down his anger at the old conspiracy theory, which sprang up every now and then.

Lisbon grimaced. "Nobody thinks you're Red John."

"Just in league with him."

"No. Not even you are that good an actor," she said firmly.

"But Bosco isn't so sure."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "I think I finally convinced him that even if I were blinded by your charm, Cho isn't."

"True. Cho is a utilitarian. He puts up with me because I catch bad guys. And because he secretly enjoys it when I deflate pompous people," Jane added thoughtfully.

"Only because he doesn't have to clean up the mess."

"So you told Bosco you're convinced of my innocence because you know me so well?" He found he liked that idea.

"Basically, yeah."

"I imagine that made him unhappy."

She shrugged. "Cops like evidence, not feelings."

In Bosco's case, he would definitely not like feelings entering into Lisbon's evaluation. Jane was struck with the realization that Bosco's sudden frequent visits were not about nostalgia, but about a fear that Lisbon was under her consultant's spell. He found he liked the man a tiny bit better for that realization, though Bosco's concern was likely not entirely unselfish.

But the truth was, he'd never thought Bosco was asking for Lisbon's take on things because Bosco was an arrogant, old school cop who could accept neither Jane's role in solving cases nor Lisbon's sound judgment in managing him. Still, pointing that out would leave Lisbon with a sense of insult, and Jane had no desire to disrupt their pleasant evening.

"You know," Lisbon said, "Bosco's not the only one impressed by competence. All we need to do is keep closing cases without making messes, and if Bosco's team doesn't make any progress, Minelli will give it back to us. We just need to buckle down and have a little patience."

"In case you haven't noticed, neither of those things are my specialty," he pointed out, choosing to be amused instead of frustrated.

She grinned at him. "And here I thought there was nothing you wouldn't do to achieve your goal."

He knew she was playing him a little, offering the perfect inducement to behave, but at the same time, she wasn't lying. Minelli was far more amenable to changing his mind than Bosco. Her strategy was worth thinking through. Not that he was prepared to admit it. "Meh. Faster to goad Bosco to punch me and get suspended."

"You think Minelli would fall for that? He knows how you operate. Besides, Bosco boxed when he was younger. You'll be in for surgery if you let him land one on your nose."

"Good to know." Jane couldn't help rubbing his nose protectively. He had no desire to incur pain unless it was absolutely necessary. And he had some other things to try first. "Happily married?"

"Bosco? Yes." Lisbon frowned in confusion. "Jane, stay away from Mandy, or I'll punch you myself."

So Lisbon liked Mrs. Bosco. Interesting, and more evidence she didn't see Bosco as more than a friend. "Lisbon, please. I assure you my intentions are honorable."

"I don't care. If you go behind Bosco's back and talk to his wife, not a cop in this building will lift a hand to stop him flattening you." Her expression was completely serious.

"Understandable." If one of his clients had ever approached Angela, he'd have cut them off immediately. Family was off limits. That was something he understood. "I have no intention of contacting her. Kids?"

"No."

"By choice?"

"I don't know. It's not something you can ask."

"Well, at least he doesn't have to worry about more than one hostage to fate," Jane said with conviction.

Lisbon raised her eyebrows. "You think Red John might go after Mandy?"

"As long as Bosco stays off TV, he should be okay. Unless he gets too close and Red John wants to distract him, but that seems unlikely."

As he planned, his nonchalance only increased Lisbon's alarm. "I'm sure he's thought of that."

Which meant he hadn't yet, but he would after she mentioned it to him. Good. Making the case undesirable so Bosco wasn't motivated to fight to keep it was important. "Yes, I'm sure. He has my example as a warning, after all." When Lisbon's eyes softened with sympathy, he quickly added, "He wouldn't want to become a victim and thus incapable of working at the CBI."

She rolled her eyes. "You're not going to scare him into giving up the case, Jane."

"Obviously not. But he should know what he's getting into."

"He does. He doesn't think Red John will play games with him the way he did with you."

Jane snorted. "On that, we agree." Bosco was not the kind of person Red John would find interesting. Jane had no doubt of that.

"Don't be arrogant. Bosco's a good cop. Maybe he'll find something."

"Red John doesn't leave clues. He lays traps. You know that, Lisbon."

She took a bite of the bear claw. "Sooner or later he'll mess up," she said after she swallowed. "Maybe shaking up the investigative team will throw him off stride."

"Yes, right after the Easter Bunny brings you a Faberge egg." Jane couldn't help the derision in his tone, but he regretted it as he saw her flinch almost imperceptibly.

"Faberge, huh? I think we had different Easter Bunnies growing up," she said. "Anyway, thanks for the snack. I'm heading out in a minute, so there's no need to hang around."

Jane decided to ignore the dismissal. "I've got nowhere pressing to be." He finished off his muffin and took a sip of tea, contemplating moving to the couch.

Lisbon sighed and put down her pen. "Just...let things play out for a while, Jane. Okay?"

"Okay."

She blinked. "Really?"

Jane chuckled. "Really. Lulling the mark's suspicions is a time honored part of the con. This seems like a good time."

"Great," she muttered, picking up her pen again.

Jane sipped his tea, smirking. When he finished, he got to his feet. "Well, that's it for me," he announced.

Lisbon didn't look up from her computer screen. "Good night."

"Seriously, Lisbon," he said in his most confidential tone.

Her gaze met his almost involuntarily. "What?"

"Hats. You look great in them."

Her pen hit the doorframe as he slipped through.


	5. Red Scare

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter! This is yet another episode without Bosco, though I think a more enjoyable one, so this hardly qualifies as a tag except for the timing. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

* * *

 **Red Scare**

After Lillian Foster left, no doubt disappointed in Jane's inability to soothe her guilt with platitudes, he wanted nothing more than to crawl back to his dingy motel room and curl into a fetal position, letting his grief and guilt overwhelm him. The new widow's raw emotion brought his own to the surface in a way he hadn't been prepared for.

But he deserved this grief, this guilt. He'd chosen the path that led him here, despite his wife's pleas. And he had no business coddling himself. His only consideration should be how to catch Red John, not getting sidetracked by these sad, pointless deaths from mere greed or stupidity instead of true, insidious evil.

So instead of going off to lick his wounds in private, he put on his mask and went to have case closed pizza, amusing himself by putting some of Beckworth's "treasure" to good use.

When Rigsby and Van Pelt left, slinking off to what he suspected was the beginning of an illicit affair, Jane went back to his couch, and, when he was sure no one was looking, slipped the earpiece for the bug in his ear. The bullpen was quiet; Cho was finishing paperwork and Lisbon had retreated to her office to do the same. He could concentrate without fear of being disturbed.

"Rebecca!" Bosco called, his voice a little tinny and thus grumpier than usual. "Where's that file on the Mezrich case?"

"On your desk, Boss." Jane heard Rebecca only faintly, but she didn't sound annoyed. She must have the patience of a saint.

"I'm looking at my desk and I don't see it," Bosco grumbled.

A faint clicking told Jane that Rebecca had entered the office. There was the sound of papers shuffling, and then she said, "There you go. You must have put the Waverley file on top of it."

"Thanks," Bosco muttered.

Silence ensued, except for papers shuffling and coffee being slurped, which made Jane want to go upstairs and slap the mug out of Bosco's hands. Just when he thought he couldn't bear it anymore, Rebecca clicked her way back into the room and said, "Agent Cho is here."

Jane perked up. This was an unforeseen development. Cho could move quietly when he wanted to; he must have taken care not to disturb Jane.

"Cho. Right. Send him in," Bosco said.

Jane began forming and discarding theories as Cho and Bosco exchanged monosyllabic greetings. Was Bosco about to ask for Cho's take on some new evidence? Or an old case? He had no doubt Bosco had invited Cho up, because Cho didn't do casual drop-ins.

Cho said, "You want my take on Red John?"

Bosco said, "I'd be interested in that, yeah."

"Sociopathic serial killer. Narcissistic. Meticulous. Charismatic."

"Charismatic? You got that from the evidence?"

"He has friends," Cho explained. "Sociopaths too, but they seem loyal."

"Huh."

After a moment, Cho said, "He likes to play games. Thinks he's smarter than everyone else."

"Like Jane?"

"Yeah."

Jane grimaced. Hearing Cho agree with the comparison made him uncomfortable.

"The thing is," Cho continued, "they're both smarter than most people. I'm hoping Jane turns out to be right."

"And what if he isn't?" Bosco asked.

Cho paused. "He'll still win. Because he's part of a team."

"Red John's not?"

"He sees people as disposable. I don't think he's capable of being part of a team. He's a true sociopath."

"You don't think Jane is?"

"No." Cho didn't hesitate. Jane was touched.

"Really?"

"Really."

There was silence until Bosco said, "You wanna expound on that? Because from where I sit, he seems like a sociopath."

To Jane's highly trained ear, Cho sounded annoyed. "He killed his best lead yet to save Lisbon's life."

"So he says."

"So she says," Cho corrected sharply.

"Okay, so say that's true. Doesn't mean he did it out of the goodness of his heart." There was a definite scoff in the last four words.

"Maybe not, but the result's the same," Cho said. "Everything Jane does is to catch Red John. He needs our help, so he sticks around."

"He's using you," Bosco said.

"Sure. We use him too, to catch bad guys that aren't Red John. So?"

Jane grinned. Cho's unsentimental approach to life was one of the small joys in his crimefighting existence.

"Look," Cho continued, "Jane's a pain in the ass. But he gets the job done. You want to catch Red John? You should let him help."

"He's been looking for him how many years?" It was obvious from Bosco's tone that the question was rhetorical.

There was a faint rustle as Cho stood. "You have any other questions?"

"No. Thanks for stopping by."

Jane chuckled as he pictured Bosco's expression. Good old Cho. His devotion to practicality was paired with a deep sense of loyalty, which he tried to deny affected his decisions. But he would never criticize a member of his team to an outsider.

Cho stopped by Lisbon's office on his way back to the bullpen, and after a few minutes he returned to his desk, packed up, and left. About the same time, Jane heard Bosco get up. "You can go on home, Rebecca. It's late."

"Thanks Boss," Rebecca called cheerfully.

So the man had a heart after all, Jane mused. Though he didn't think Bosco was going home yet; he'd probably dismissed Rebecca so he could think.

Or, Jane reflected darkly as footsteps sounded in the hall, so he could come chat with Lisbon unobserved. As soon as Bosco was safely in her office, Jane removed the earpiece and hid it in the couch cushions, then sat up, stretched, and yawned. After a moment he ambled into the kitchen to brew a cup of tea.

The office was so quiet that he could hear Lisbon chuckle through the open door. "Cho's the best interrogator I know. You'll never get anything out of him except what he wants you to know."

"Jane seems to have won him over," Bosco remarked.

Jane rolled his eyes at the man's pitiful gambit, but Lisbon seemed to take it at face value. "Jane's very good at what he does."

"Cons and tricks."

"Catching bad guys." Lisbon's tone sharpened.

"Doesn't seem to have helped him catch Red John."

Jane frowned as Lisbon didn't respond for several seconds. "You know how it is when you're emotionally involved with a case."

The long silence after her remark piqued Jane's interest as he poured hot water into his teacup. He found it hard to picture Bosco becoming emotionally involved in a case. Had it involved Lisbon somehow? A threat to her? Jane felt a shiver run down his spine as he pictured it. Yes, Bosco might not be so straight-laced in that situation. He wondered how much Lisbon knew; it was obvious she at least had strong suspicions.

At last Bosco said, "Guess it's good he's off the case, then."

Lisbon's voice was sympathetic, but with a defensive edge. "A fresh set of eyes never hurts. Any progress?"

"We're looking at several different angles."

Jane stifled a snort, picturing Lisbon's expression at being fed a standard line meant for non-cops. It must have been obvious to Bosco that he'd misstepped, because he continued, "Well, just wanted to say goodnight. You here much longer?"

"Just wrapping things up."

"Doesn't Jane ever go home? Does he stay on that couch all night?"

"Only when he's working too hard."

Bosco snorted, and Jane smiled. Lisbon often scoffed at the idea that lying on a couch could constitute work, but apparently she'd bought into the idea at least partly.

"Working. Right."

"Jane's all brainpower," Lisbon replied. "It's still work. Figuring out how to use people's assumptions against them takes a lot of thought."

"Looks like laziness to me."

"Looks like your assumptions are tripping you up, then," Lisbon said.

"We'll see." Bosco got up. "Night, Lisbon."

"Night, Sam."

Jane tossed his teabag in the trash and stepped into the hall as Bosco came out of Lisbon's office. "Burning the midnight oil, I see," Jane remarked.

"And you're making tea."

"Long day," Jane replied. "But a good one. We caught a killer."

"We? You didn't do it single-handedly?" Bosco scoffed.

Jane gave him a patronizing smile. "Hardly. Very few worthwhile things can be done single-handedly."

"Is that why you stick around?"

Jane was mindful that Lisbon was overhearing every word, but in this case he didn't need to worry. "Partly. But also because I enjoy the company. You understand that, I'm sure, since we see so much of you."

Bosco reacted to the gentle jibe with a thunderous frown, but he kept his tone civil. "You don't get bored, then? Since you're so much smarter than everybody else?"

"Meh. There are all different kinds of smart. Van Pelt, for instance, is smarter with a computer than I'll ever be. Rigsby is a man of principle, which is refreshing. Cho is sublimely straightforward, with excellent tactical sense. I learn something from each of them almost daily."

"Not Lisbon?" Bosco challenged.

"Ah, Lisbon. If I told you all the things I've learned from her, we'd be here til sunrise. It's no exaggeration to say she shows me how to be a better person."

"You want to be a better person?"

"Don't we all?" Jane replied. "None of us is perfect, after all. Anyone who believes they're as good as they can be is lying to themselves. We all have things to improve upon, impulses to resist, unhealthy habits to shed. Even forbidden desires to conceal."

Oh, he'd hit home with that one, Jane noted gleefully. He pursued his advantage. "Even Lisbon, who is an excellent person as you know, struggles with her temper. Though in the grand scheme of things, I'm sure she can be forgiven for launching occasional office supplies in my direction."

"Damn straight," Lisbon called.

Jane grinned as Bosco tried not to look discomfited. "Well, good night, Sam." He then sauntered to Lisbon's office and went in. "Good evening, Lisbon. Still frittering away your youth with paperwork?"

She glared at him. "Ha, ha. Stop poking at Bosco. What do you hope to achieve?"

"I thought you'd made it perfectly clear there is nothing to be achieved, so I'm merely amusing myself a bit."

"If he does get into a bind, you're making it even less likely he'll ask for your help."

"I think Sam Bosco would rather chew his own arm off than ask me for anything," Jane replied, settling into a chair.

"Maybe, but he'll do almost anything to see justice done."

"Oh? Do tell," he invited. She wouldn't tell him, he knew, but he was curious enough to ask.

"Jane, I'd like to go home sometime tonight. Did you need something?"

"Not really. Just wanted to say goodnight, maybe reflect on a job well done."

Lisbon sat back from her computer and looked at him. "Yes, it was. And Minelli didn't get any complaints about you for a change."

"You're welcome." Though actually he'd been obnoxious to more than one person during the case, no one had felt offended or entitled enough to lodge a formal complaint. That was more about luck than his behavior, but he would happily take whatever credit he could get.

"Any chance it could become a regular thing?" She didn't look hopeful.

"Time will tell." He grinned and sipped his tea.

Lisbon sighed and went back to work.

Jane regarded her fondly as he finished his tea. She knew him so well—she'd even seen through his mask earlier before the pizza. He shouldn't find that comforting, but he did. "Did you give the key to Lillian Foster?"

"Yes, when she was here earlier." She frowned. "You didn't really steal a bottle from Beckworth's wine cellar, did you?"

He grinned. "Now Lisbon, would I do that? Steal from a grieving widow?" Not that Mrs. Foster would care about a bottle, or even several, until she began to recover from her grief. "Be sure to tell her what you think it unlocks."

"Don't worry, I will. You better hope she won't report anything missing."

"She won't."

"Good."

Jane set his empty cup down on its saucer. "Well, I'm off. See you in the morning, Lisbon."

"Good night, Jane." She looked up and smiled at him for a second.

"Sweet dreams," he called over his shoulder.


	6. Black Gold and Red Blood

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I was on a family vacation with no cell service and then came back to work only to be faced with some major public speaking. But now the trauma is over and things are getting back to normal. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Black Gold and Red Blood**

Jane almost burst out laughing as Bosco's play became clear. Arresting him for eavesdropping? It was like going after a fly with a sledgehammer. The move was all bluster, almost stereotypical for such an unsubtle man.

Jane had no intention of leaving the CBI until he achieved his goal, and it would take a better man than Sam Bosco to change his mind. He was confident he could beat this rap, making Bosco look like an idiot in the process, if this came to trial. Besides, Minelli would change his mind quick enough once the unit's case closed rate started trending downward.

What bothered him was Lisbon's reaction. She was genuinely distressed, and he hated that. But he wasn't going to back down to a bully, even for her. Still, he avoided looking at her as he was escorted out of Bosco's office. No sense taking any chance, however remote, in weakening his resolve.

Jail could not fairly be said to be a pleasant place, but he was confident in his ability to manipulate even hardened criminals. His cellmate was an easy first ally, full of valuable information about his new environment.

As he lay on the top bunk after lights out, he wondered what was happening at the CBI in his absence. Was Bosco justifying himself to Lisbon, trying to defuse her anger? He'd be in for a nasty shock. You didn't go after one of Lisbon's people and expect forgiveness.

He hoped she didn't call the jail to check on him. If she found out he'd refused protective custody, she'd be worried. But he'd go crazy left to himself with nothing to do but think. Better to be with people, even if they weren't ones he'd normally choose as conversational partners.

He hoped Cho would bring him the case file tomorrow. It would be a unique challenge to solve it from jail, and it would remind Lisbon why she kept him around. He had absolutely no doubt that she could convince Bosco to drop those ridiculous charges if she put her mind to it. Not immediately, of course, because she wanted to make a point about rules and lines and consequences, however futile it would turn out to be.

He smiled a little as he thought of her being extra snarky with the team to hide how upset she was. She'd leave him here in the hope he'd learn some kind of lesson, but when she saw that wasn't happening, she'd get him out.

He drifted off to sleep imagining himself on the couch in her office, trying not to smile at her grumpiness.

The next day, Cho came through with a copy of the victim's journal and some puzzles, the Cho equivalent of milk and cookies. Jane was touched that he didn't seem to be on board with the "teach Jane a lesson" plan. He bet Van Pelt and Rigsby weren't either, though it was unlikely they'd be able to put a stop to it.

He needed to solve this case. Setting up Rigsby and Roddy Gerber to steer the latter into a stint in jail was amusing, and from there it was easy to figure out who'd beaten up Kirby Hines. Unfortunately that didn't solve the murder. He'd have to get out of here to do that.

He needed props. And a visitor. And there was no reason to deprive himself of the pleasure of chatting with Lisbon while he got them.

mmm

Lisbon was indeed intent on teaching him a lesson, obviously. She was doomed to disappointment, but Jane was enjoying bantering with her. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her. Surrounded by people with whom he had to watch his back, it was oddly exhilarating to be in her presence and focus on their conversation. He felt safe with her, and there were painfully few people in that category.

That safety enabled him to gain valuable insight into the case, which was critical to his plan of getting back to the CBI. Lisbon would relent in time, despite her claim to have no influence on Bosco, but it would be easier if Minelli was reminded why he'd hired Jane in the first place.

"There are real boundaries in life. These are real prison walls," Lisbon told him, trying to get her point across. Her persistence was admirable, really; most people would have given up on trying to get him to conform to the rules long ago.

"Only in your mind, Lisbon," he said, purely to make her glare at him. "Only in your mind."

"Oh really? Then you're just staying in here because you're enjoying the experience?" she scoffed.

"While I have learned many interesting things during my stay," he replied cheerfully, "I don't expect I'll be here much longer."

"You'll need a lawyer for your bail hearing," she said, frowning. "Is there someone you want me to call for you?"

"No need. I'll take care of it." He had lessons of his own to teach, after all. Getting out on bail, while perhaps easier, would only convince Bosco his plan was working. Jane would do things his own way. Lisbon wouldn't like it, but she would be alarmed enough at the prospect of real jail time for him that she'd put an end to this nonsense.

"Okay," she said, doubt clear in her voice. Then she sighed. "Jane, look. Bosco arresting you was heavy handed, but you crossed a line bugging his office. Just apologize like he wants, okay? We can still fix this and get you out of here."

She was adorably naive sometimes, he thought. "And then what? If I'm banished from the CBI, how can I catch Red John?"

"We will catch him for you," she said firmly.

"And I'm supposed to do what? Go back to being a psychic? And do you really think he'll leave me alone if I do?" He was curious whether she'd actually thought this through.

"Just because you're not officially working at the CBI doesn't mean we can't keep in touch," she said softly. "It might throw him off, give us an opportunity." She leaned forward. "We can still be a team, Jane. Just an unofficial one. But not if you're in jail."

It was mildly tempting, and he was touched by her loyalty. But Jane knew he wasn't going to be able to let Bosco win. "Don't worry, Lisbon. Fascinating though this place is, its amusement value is limited. I'll return to my role of crime fighter shortly."

She sat back, giving up for the moment. "I hope so," she sighed. "Well, I gotta go."

"Places to go, criminals to catch," Jane said, hiding his disappointment. "I understand."

She gave him a look that made him wonder when she'd learned to see through his smile. "I'll come see you again soon."

"No need," he assured her. "Though I appreciate the sentiment."

She got to her feet. "Stay out of trouble, okay?"

Jane gave her his biggest, most dazzling smile. "Don't worry, Lisbon."

"Yeah, right," she muttered as she turned to leave.

His eyes lingered on her back out of habit, he told himself. It wasn't like he would never see her again.

mmm

Lisbon would be pissed if she learned she'd brought him the means to escape, he thought as he waited for the moment to spring his mousetrap. He hoped she wouldn't put the pieces together, but she was a good detective, so she probably would.

Given that, it was a pity she wasn't here to witness how well it worked. She was always so skeptical of his more creative plans.

There was just enough cash in the guard's jacket pocket to get him a cab to Lisbon's place. She was at the office, of course, probably cursing him for the massive headache he was causing, but he bet she'd taken his go bag out of her trunk for safekeeping while there was no chance he'd need it. She wouldn't think to look for him at her place, either.

Her lock was laughably easy to pick, even with improvised tools, and his bag was sitting on top of an unpacked box. He changed quickly, putting his prison garb in the bag to make it less obvious he'd emptied it of the clothes, spare shoes, and cash he kept in it. You never knew when you'd need a wad of bills, and today he was grateful for his adherence to old habits.

Someday, if he was lucky, one of his stashes would get him to freedom after killing Red John.

Today, it got him to the Gerber residence to entrap Sandrine. He could have called Lisbon or Cho to send the cops, but he realized they'd likely come themselves. He didn't want to be arrested by his friends.

Besides, calling Bosco was satisfying. It was the next best thing to tweaking his nose. Jane heard Minelli as he hung up, so he knew he'd been on speakerphone and that Lisbon had likely heard the whole thing. That was probably for the best, though he had no doubt she was ready to strangle him at this point.

He was better off in jail where she couldn't punch him in the nose, he decided.

mmm

The guards at the jail were grumpy this time around, but that was to be expected. What he didn't expect was to have a visitor that same day. Cho again, he guessed, come to wrap up loose ends for the case.

But it was Lisbon glowering at him from the other side of the table. "You said you'd stay out of trouble, not go adding charges to your list!"

"I don't believe I said that exactly," Jane replied, smiling as he sat down across from her. "It's lovely to see you again so soon, though. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?"

"Minelli's done. This is too far even for you, Jane." The concern in her eyes contrasted painfully with the anger in her voice. "How could you be so stupid?"

"I solved the case and gift wrapped the killer. The rest is just details." He shrugged. "The jury will agree with me, especially once I provoke Bosco into berating me on the stand. They'll see I'm a dedicated crime fighter unfairly targeted by a bullying coworker and act accordingly."

"Oh they will, will they?" she scoffed.

"Of course. Don't worry. If you don't want to testify, I'm sure Rigsby and Van Pelt will do admirably. I'd rather avoid putting Cho on the stand," Jane mused. His blunt honesty would be hard to spin.

Lisbon grimaced, no doubt picturing the trial. She'd be hard pressed to avoid testifying for the prosecution, and she knew it. The team's loyalties would be in conflict, distracting them from their jobs. As their leader, she couldn't permit that if she could help it. He could read the entire argument she was having with herself, and it took all his self control to keep the triumph off his face.

"And of course I'm happy to unofficially consult while I'm working through the system," he continued. "There's not much intellectual stimulation in here."

"You can get out on bail. Can't you?" She frowned, probably worrying about his finances. Considering the pittance he was paid, that made sense. He'd never told her about his various stashes and overseas accounts, after all.

"Meh. If I can't work, I have nowhere I need to be. I might as well save myself the trouble and stay put." He saw the line between her eyebrows deepen as she thought of him stuck in here for the foreseeable future. "Cheer up, Lisbon. At least you'll know where I am at all times."

"I thought I knew where you were earlier today," she snarked.

"I won't be breaking out again. There's no need." Besides, that gag would never work twice.

She still looked unhappy. He felt a little bad about forcing her to pressure Bosco, but the man needed to be put in his place. He had to understand that he couldn't interfere with Lisbon's team, including and especially Jane. That was the first step toward the realization that the Red John case needed Jane's skills.

With a sigh, she muttered, "I wish you hadn't gotten in this mess. What were you thinking? No, I know, it was Red John, so you weren't thinking straight."

Jane stifled a protest, since she was convincing herself to do what he needed her to do.

"I am sorry for making trouble for you," he said, completely sincere.

Lisbon snorted. "You say you are, but it never stops you from doing it again."

He ignored that comment. "I'll understand if you don't want to visit anymore. But you won't stop the others, will you?"

"Oh, stop with the puppy dog eyes," she sighed. "Of course we'll come visit you."

"Thank you. But blueberry next time, okay?"

She rolled her eyes as she got up. "Don't push your luck. And behave!"

"Thanks for coming," he called after her.

He was as good as free, he reflected as he was taken back to his cell.

mmm

Lisbon was still protecting Bosco by refusing to admit what she'd done, Jane was amused to note. He was practically giddy with delight to be back at the CBI, and the welcome he'd gotten from the team was gratifying. All was right in their collective world again.

Well, almost all. Not having the Red John case was a big wrong.

Still, Bosco now had to know he couldn't get rid of Jane. It was a step in the right direction.

Leaving Lisbon's office, Jane brewed himself a cup of tea, savoring the familiar ritual. He was looking forward to settling on his couch and sipping it, relaxing in the emptying bullpen. But footsteps in the hall warned him his plan was probably going to be delayed.

"Sam!" he hailed Bosco cheerfully. He'd won, after all, so he was willing to let bygones be bygones. "Good to see you. Burning the midnight oil?"

Bosco scowled at him. "Obviously you're not."

"Just settling back in. It's good to be back. Lisbon's in her office if you're looking for her."

"No." From the look on his face, Bosco was having trouble processing that Lisbon had basically blackmailed him. It was understandable; she would never have used his secret against him under other circumstances. "I want to talk to you."

"Oh? You flatter me. Would you rather chat in your office?" Jane offered.

Bosco looked relieved. "Sure. But I want your hands in view at all times."

Jane held up his cup and saucer. "Not a problem."

He followed Bosco to his office, careful to keep his posture relaxed as he settled in a visitor's chair and sipped his tea. Bosco sat behind his desk, more comfortable in his own space.

"What can I do for you, Sam?" Jane asked, speaking first to clarify that Bosco was not in charge here.

"I suppose you know that Lisbon convinced me to drop the charges. Which I did out of respect for her." Bosco looked like he was chewing on a lemon.

"Yes. And no need to worry; your secret is safe with her. She's very discreet," Jane replied. "She won't even admit there is one, despite the fact that she knows I can spot the tiniest bit of deception in her. And since I can see you didn't bring me here to share it, I'll tell you that I haven't the faintest interest in ferreting out the skeleton in your closet. I'm not out to embarrass you, and I have no interest in distressing Lisbon. There's been quite enough of that lately."

Bosco scowled. "So you care about her feelings, huh? Did you think about that when you escaped from jail? You had to know she'd catch flak for that."

"I was working the case," Jane said. "That was business. This, I gather, is personal."

"Working the case? You weren't on the case."

"According to you. But I don't work for you."

"According to Minelli," Bosco retorted.

"Meh. Minelli should have known better."

"You don't care about anyone but yourself, do you?"

Jane shrugged. "I don't see any point in discussing my feelings with you. If you want some insight into our team dynamics, you should try asking the others. Except they're not feeling very charitable toward you at the moment. You attack one of us, you attack all of us. That's how teams work, you know."

"I know how teams work," Bosco snapped. "I'm a team leader. And I didn't attack you. You attacked me and my team!"

"Oh please. A little friendly surveillance is hardly—"

Bosco stood, looming over Jane from across the desk, which was actually pretty impressive, Jane thought. "What did you do to her? Blackmail? Hypnotism?"

"Neither. There was no need," Jane said calmly. "While I'm fascinated by the idea there might be blackmail material in Lisbon's past, I know of nothing to use. And I have only hypnotized her once, at her request, to help clear her in the McTeer case." There, he thought. Let Bosco think about how things might have ended for Lisbon without his help.

Bosco leaned back a little, his aggression naturally lessened as his brain switched its primary process to thinking instead of feeling. "So you say."

"It's the truth. Instead of spinning conspiracy theories, you might want to take a step back and consider trusting Lisbon's judgment. Even if I were the most talented charlatan in the world, which I make no claim to be, years of constant exposure would be bound to give her insight into my real character. Maybe she's seeing something you're missing, and maybe that is something real, not a cleverly crafted illusion."

"Maybe," Bosco admitted. "Maybe not."

"All I ask is that you consider the evidence objectively, like you would for any other problem you're trying to solve," Jane replied. "You've been assuming I'm scamming her."

Bosco glared at him. "You are scamming her. You used her to get to the Red John case in the first place, and now you're using her to try to get it back."

Jane shook his head. "Scamming implies she's unaware of my motives. She's not. But there's more to my work at the CBI than Red John. I enjoy solving puzzles and outwitting murderers. And I enjoy working with Lisbon. Who wouldn't?"

He enjoyed the look of distaste as Bosco considered the possibility that he might not be the only one who'd noticed Lisbon was an exceptional woman and sat back down. "So let me get this straight. You're claiming this is not about Red John."

"No. I'm claiming it's about more than Red John. He is my primary goal, but I have others."

"So even if you never get the case back—even if my team solves it without you—you plan to stick around?" Bosco couldn't keep the dismay out of his voice.

"Maybe. I hadn't thought about that possibility. Why? Do you think you're close to catching him?" Jane sat up a little straighter.

"Like I'm going to tell you," Bosco scoffed. "You really are like a junkie, Jane. One mention and you're practically drooling."

Jane finished his tea, setting the cup in the saucer gently before he stood. It was obviously not productive to continue this conversation. "Nice chatting with you, Sam. Good night."

Bosco waved a hand in dismissal but didn't reply, so Jane left. Lisbon's office was dark, so he went into the kitchen to wash his cup and saucer. Then he lay down on his couch, sighing in satisfaction at the familiar comfort. He looked forward to some real sleep tonight.

And in the morning, he'd make sure there was a thank-you latte and bear claw waiting for Lisbon.


	7. Red Bulls

**Author's Note:** Real life has been demanding lately, but I finally found time to watch this episode. It's always been a favorite, one of the few with a really happy ending and full of delicious Jane versus Bosco moments. It doesn't really need expounding on but it's a pivotal part of this arc, so I hope you enjoy this revisit!

* * *

 **Red Bulls**

On the way back to CBI after the unexpected encounter with Bosco's cowboys, Jane wondered idly if it would have been to his advantage if Bosco had shot him. Lisbon would have kicked his ass, and Minelli would have been worried about a lawsuit and terrible publicity, perhaps enough to give Jane back the Red John case.

Hm. It probably wasn't too late to goad Bosco into something similarly unwise, though Jane had no desire to host a bullet, and he'd have to be careful that Lisbon didn't think he deserved it. She was unsympathetic to his pain when she thought he ought to take a lesson from it, and Minelli would take his cues from her.

There were disadvantages to working so closely with someone for so long. It was increasingly hard to avoid her seeing what he least wanted her to see.

So Jane was thrilled when the victim's ID turned out to be related to Bosco's case. If he inserted himself into the kidnapping investigation, there would be opportunities galore to simultaneously prove his acumen and poke around his adversary's psyche.

Minelli played right into his hands by forcing the two teams together, and Lisbon spotted it immediately, turning to look at Jane as Minelli handed down their sentence. Bosco predictably registered his disgust before storming out, while Lisbon took it calmly, no doubt feeling this would give her team a chance to prove themselves to Bosco's unit and lessen the humiliation of losing their biggest case.

Bosco's people were openly contemptuous; that was no secret around the building. The sneering and stupid nicknames raised Jane's hackles, but he agreed with Lisbon: no one could work closely with her people (and they were her people, no matter what Bosco said) and not come to respect them. Jane had, after all, and that was after a lifetime of despising cops.

Jane seized the chance to go with Lisbon and Bosco to the Westlake home, but he almost regretted that he wouldn't be around to see Hicks' effect on the team. He would no doubt get under Rigsby's skin, but Van Pelt and Cho would keep things from getting out of hand. He silently wished them good luck as he left.

It was almost too easy getting Bosco to take him onto the case. Jane was an old hand at provoking complaints from arrogant people, and the sister's husband was an easy mark. It was a bonus that he got to give Verona some good advice in the process, though—and that she actually took it and then stood up for him in front of Bosco.

He meant what he said about being absent in the moment. His absence from his family the night Red John murdered them was his biggest regret, a permanent blight on his miserable life. He knew rationally that the killer had waited for a night he would be gone and that even if he'd been there, the outcome would probably not have been different, except that Red John might have killed him too. But he doubted it. The dead didn't suffer, and Red John wanted him to suffer for his arrogant slander.

But feelings weren't rational, and he couldn't reason away his regret and guilt. Verona at least would have the comfort of knowing she'd been present for her sister if this turned out badly. And maybe she would get her life together and ditch her enabling husband, though that was probably too much to hope.

Sometimes Jane wished he could stop seeing his own tragedy played out in the cases they solved. But at least in this kidnapping there was the potential for a happy ending.

Bosco took Jane onto the case purely out of spite at being threatened by the husband, just as Jane had predicted. Lisbon would have done the same; it was one of those cop things. But the difference was that she knew exactly what he'd done, whereas Bosco had no idea.

"Have fun, boys," she smirked as she left, having been highly amused by the whole conversation. She wouldn't have been if she'd been the target of his play, but she must have figured Bosco deserved to get fooled, even if once again it meant she'd been wrong and Jane had been right.

She was secretly on his side this time, he realized. Despite her insistence to the team that fresh eyes on the Red John case was a good thing, she wanted it back, and she was sick and tired of Bosco's dismissive attitude toward her people. She'd never admit it, but she wanted Jane to bend him to his will.

The nanny was so laughably bad at her job that Jane had no trouble identifying her as a suspect. His chat with her was interrupted by Bosco's intimidation attempt, as if Jane couldn't pick out an informant. He took malicious glee in outing Raoul as soon as they were away from the gang, then tweaking Bosco afterward. It was time to call him on his juvenile attitude, Jane decided.

"You shouldn't be working with us," Bosco seethed. "You're hurting people, you know that?"

"Who?" Jane challenged.

"The cops you work with. Don't kid yourself. Their careers are taking a hit. If you care about them, you'll leave."

"Cops I work with, meaning Lisbon," Jane clarified. Was this really just about jealousy? Or some deep-seated insecurity Bosco had about his own intelligence? Or something else? Jane needed to know for sure so he could work around it.

"And her team," Bosco said, obviously wary of showing his feelings for Lisbon.

"But mostly Lisbon." Really, the man should know Jane had figured out the whole sordid story. "That ransom demand, did she talk to you about that?"

Bosco shifted uneasily. "Sure. And yes, it could mean there's someone on the inside."

"Be useful to know who it is, don't you think?" Jane would wrap this case up with a nice neat bow, and hopefully a live Mia Westlake. It would be tough to get Bosco to play along, but Lisbon's support would help.

Jane left Bosco to stew on his suggestion while he put the finishing touches on his plan, but he was soon interrupted by a call from Lisbon. "Van Pelt's been shot," she said. "The vest took it, but Cho and I are on our way there. We think it was one of the kidnappers. Rigsby shot her."

"Text me the address," Jane said, already off the couch and moving.

"Tell Bosco," she ordered, then hung up, obviously preoccupied. She sounded as shaken as Jane felt.

The impulse to go be with his teammates and see for himself that they were all okay was so strong that Jane almost ignored Lisbon's directive, but just as the elevator arrived he reminded himself that he needed Bosco to get to Red John. So he went to Bosco's office instead of his own car. "Van Pelt's been shot, they think by one of the kidnappers."

Bosco looked up, startled. "Where?"

"Lisbon texted me the address. You coming?"

Bosco grabbed his jacket. "Dammit. She okay?"

"She was wearing a vest," Jane replied as they hurried down the hall.

Bosco's phone rang. "Hicks? You okay? Yeah, I just heard. Coming to you now. Yeah? Well, good. Okay. Bye."

"Everyone else is all right?" Jane asked, though he knew Rigsby was probably not.

"Yeah. Hicks says Rigsby saved his life."

No more stupid nicknames then, Jane hoped. "You can always count on Rigsby."

They were silent as they drove, not fast enough for Jane's liking but faster than Lisbon would have appreciated. At last they reached the scene, and as Jane got out of the car his gaze fell on Lisbon. Relief crashed over him as he took in her composure and confirmed there was no tragedy in progress.

"She all right?" Jane asked, still concerned. He couldn't imagine the bullpen without Van Pelt's diligent, sunny presence anymore. She made the quiet evenings more bearable, often staying late even if Lisbon didn't.

"Yeah." Lisbon then tackled Bosco about the bad blood between their teams that had probably led to this situation. Jane silently applauded her, but she was cut off by Cho's arrival, obviously not wanting her team to witness any more discord.

Cho brought the news that their cases were definitely linked, so Jane pressed his plan to trap the insider. But Bosco remained stubbornly opposed.

Lisbon jumped into the fray without hesitation, and Jane could have hugged her if he weren't so frustrated with Bosco. Somewhere along the way this had not only become about solving the case, but about bringing a woman home to her sister who needed her. Jane wanted this to end well, and going by the book wasn't going to cut it.

"If you're so sure you're right that you won't even listen to him, then you're not a person I know," Lisbon declared to Bosco.

Jane almost winced on the other man's behalf. She certainly knew how to cut to the bone when she wanted to.

After a long silence, Bosco said, "Fine. I'll hear him out. But no cheap stunts."

Jane beamed at him. "No stunts at all. Just a cunning misdirect. All you have to do is be yourself. Lisbon, I'll need you and Cho as well." Because he needed people he could trust, and Bosco and his people didn't fit the bill.

"What's the plan, Jane?" Lisbon demanded.

"We plant a tracker in the ransom money, plant a camera in the room, create a distraction so that it's left unattended, and voila! The kidnapper will reveal him- or herself to us in full living color," Jane replied. "I'll take care of planting the camera and the distraction. Bosco can put the tracker in the money." He turned to Bosco. "You've got the straight-man role. Just behave as if everything was by the book."

Bosco looked dubious, but Lisbon and Cho nodded. As his plans went, this wasn't particularly outrageous, so they didn't protest.

"Let's go," Lisbon said briskly.

mmm

The plan went like clockwork, and so did the takedown. Jane watched from the safety of a tree, gratified that both teams worked smoothly together. And when Lisbon emerged with Mia Westlake and delivered her to her sister's arms, he felt a surge of triumph. Saving a life was different than getting justice for a dead victim. It felt more hopeful somehow. For all the families they'd seen shattered by a loved one's death, it felt great to reunite one.

And Bosco knew exactly who he had to thank for this outcome.

Jane rode back with his team, savoring their high spirits even though they were still missing Van Pelt, who would be out for a few days recovering. They'd solved their own case at the same time as Bosco's, so there were interrogations and paperwork to do, but no families in the throes of fresh grief to talk to. Rigsby left early, no doubt to sneak over to Van Pelt's place and endear himself with clumsy but earnest caregiving, and Cho followed not long after.

Jane rewarded himself with a good book, a cup of tea, and his couch, waiting for the inevitable result of his exertions. He noted Bosco's stop in Lisbon's office with interest but was careful to be absorbed in his book when Bosco approached him.

Am admission that he had a "useful perspective" and a summary of the Red John case so far was much less than he felt he'd earned, but it was a start. Still, Jane wasn't quite ready to let Bosco have it his own way. "I need the actual case file. Unabridged."

"You're a jerk. You know that?" Bosco retorted.

Jane didn't respond to the question. Bosco's opinion of him wasn't important; there were very few people's who were.

But he did wish him a good night as he left and then scanned the summary. As he'd thought, there'd been no real progress, just a reexamination of the scant forensic evidence and some new witness interviews, all pointing to the theory that Lisbon's team had missed something but in the end disproving it.

Well, that was a disappointing reward for all his work these past months. But, he reminded himself, the real payoff was that he'd be in the loop going forward. Any new case would prompt Bosco to give him the opportunity to offer his useful perspective instead of shutting him out.

All in all, a good day's work, he decided.

Familiar footsteps alerted him that Lisbon had stopped by to say goodnight. He put down the folder and smiled at her. "Going home early, I see. Celebrating with takeout?"

"It's early enough I might stop by the store and heat something up myself," she grinned. "How about you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Plenty of reading to get through."

"What's that?" she asked, nodding at the folder.

"This? This is the sad tale of a case being reinvestigated to no purpose."

Lisbon's eyebrows went up. "Bosco gave you the case file?"

"Not yet. This is merely a summary. But I'm sure the file is forthcoming."

She smiled. "So you won, huh? Your plan worked."

"Did you doubt me, Lisbon?"

"Yes."

"When are you going to stop doing that?" he smirked.

"Maybe someday I'll surprise you."

"I look forward to it."

She shook her head at him. "Good night, Jane."

"Good night, Lisbon." He watched her until she disappeared around the corner.

Yes, all was right with his world again. At least, as right as it could be until he found Red John.

Frowning, he opened the file again. Maybe there was something in here Bosco didn't realize was important. That was why he needed the full file.

He was sure he'd get it tomorrow.

Things were looking up


	8. His Red Right Hand: Crime Scenes

**Author's Note:** Although this is the last Bosco episode, it isn't the last chapter in this story. There's a lot left to cover! I think there will be 2 more. Thanks for sticking with it!

* * *

 **His Red Right Hand: Crime Scenes**

Despite the early morning call, Jane was in a pretty good mood: an intriguingly staged victim and the amusement value of coworkers who carelessly used the same soap almost made up for the lack of Lisbon at the crime scene. He and Cho caught up with her back at the CBI as the sun rose.

"Enjoy your sleep?" Jane teased her. He knew perfectly well she hadn't been sleeping in while they'd worked the crime scene.

"Yes," she retorted. "What little I got before Sac PD called. Then that idiot who nearly hit me made sure I was awake."

Jane glanced at Cho, who had merely told him Lisbon had gotten involved in a traffic stop. "Sounds much more exciting when you tell it, Lisbon. Is the idiot in jail, then?"

"He will be after the hospital gets done with him. No alcohol in his system, but he seemed impaired. I'm betting narcotics," she replied.

"Lucky for him you're a defensive driver," Jane remarked. If the idiot had seriously hurt Lisbon, he'd have had the wrath of the CBI to deal with. Not to mention the wrath of Patrick Jane.

"Yeah. At least I don't need coffee this morning," she said as they went through security.

Upstairs, they ran into Rebecca, obviously coming back from a serious coffee run. Jane was eager to know what Bosco wanted to see him about, but first he needed to ensure Lisbon was truly not upset. A little teasing, a little banter, and he was sure she'd be fine.

"You know it's all right to like me now," he told Rebecca. "Your boss and I made up."

"It's okay, Rebecca. I don't like him either," Lisbon said.

Ah, the snark was strong with her today. She was looking for normality, Jane thought. "She's a liar. She loves me."

He shot Lisbon a grin, because he knew it was true. Not in a soppy romantic way or anything, but the same as she loved every member of her team. A familial love, he thought. But he was definitely the one who soaked up most of her attention, possibly because he needed it the most.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Lisbon retorted as they parted from Rebecca at Bosco's office.

A moment later Rebecca's scream echoed in the hall. Lisbon was first through the door, Jane at her heels. Then Cho pushed past Jane as he froze on the threshold.

Jane barely noticed. The bodies on the floor and the sharp smell of blood took over his mind, leaving his body to its own devices.

For an unbearable moment he was back in his bedroom in Malibu, standing on that threshold and staring in shock at the bloody bodies, the smell making him want to vomit.

Then Lisbon's voice yanked him back to the present. "Oh my God. Oh my God, no. No. Sam? Sam!"

Lisbon. Crime scene. Jane tried to will his brain back into working order, focusing on the details it was easy to overlook. He was a consultant doing a job. This was not his house and these bloody bodies were not his family.

Cho quickly determined that Martinez and Dyson were gone, but Lisbon rolled Bosco over, looking as if she was prepared to will him back to life. "Jane, some help! Get over here now!"

The distress in her voice propelled him forward on autopilot. Lisbon needed his help. He would give it. His world narrowed to that simple imperative, enabling him to cross the bloody carpet, kneel beside Bosco, and press his hands over the wounds, swallowing down bile as the blood squished between his fingers with every compression Lisbon performed.

As if from a great distance, he heard Cho taking charge of the situation, which was a relief. Cho would handle whatever there was to be handled outside this room. All Jane had to do was help Lisbon by doing what she told him. He didn't need to think about it.

Except once back in gear, his mind kicked into overdrive, noting the splatter patterns, positions of the bodies, and the fact that someone was missing. Lisbon's quiet counting and Rebecca's watery gasps for air helped him ignore the sounds of Bosco's ribs creaking as Lisbon forced his heart to beat.

He could do this. Lisbon would punch him if he threw up on Bosco. Focus on the scene, he told himself over and over. Ignore the living; focus on the dead.

Except he couldn't. He'd never realized before that part of his mind always monitored Lisbon when they were in the same space, but now he couldn't tune out her voice, steady with determination but hollow with dread. He relied on her for his protection, so it made sense to track her movements and where her attention was directed, he knew, but right now he really wished he could ignore her.

On the other hand, maybe it was better not to. Her voice kept him anchored in the present while his mind kept throwing memories at him of the last time he'd touched a body covered in blood. But this wasn't his wife or daughter, because Lisbon was here. No flashback could override her voice, so he focused on it when he lost track of his surroundings.

He was so focused that he resisted at first when the EMTs tried to push him away, until Lisbon snapped, "Jane, get out of the way!"

He staggered to his feet and retreated back near the door, trying to take in the scene but distracted by Lisbon, standing beside Bosco and murmuring, "Breathe. Breathe." Her hands were shaking and covered in blood, just like his were. Rebecca was gone, presumably trying to compose herself somewhere.

Jane gingerly slid a finger into his pocket and retrieved his handkerchief, wiping the blood off his hands as best he could. It helped him feel better.

As the EMTs shocked Bosco's heart back to beating, Lisbon let out a shaky breath. Jane glanced at her to be sure she was hanging on to her composure, then counted the bodies again now that his head was clearing. Yes, Hicks was definitely missing, not just lying unnoticed under a desk or something.

Bosco was rushed out of the room, leaving Jane and Lisbon alone. "You okay?" he asked. He could see she wasn't, but her reflexive assertion that she was would put her back on familiar ground for a moment.

Before she could respond, Rigsby and Van Pelt came in, and Jane listened to their report and Lisbon's orders with a growing admiration. They were shocked and grieving, as evidenced by Van Pelt's distraction when her gaze landed on Dyson. But they were carrying on. That was more than he'd managed to do when he'd found his family. These people had taken him in and steadied him; now they needed him to do the same for them. He would do whatever he could.

Having sent Rigsby and Van Pelt about their business, Lisbon turned to him. "Jane, you may be in shock. Look at me."

He didn't, but only because he was trying to focus on the facts and ignore the emotional ramifications. Her wounded eyes would make that impossible. "There should be three bodies. There...there's only two. Where's Agent Hicks?"

Lisbon pulled out her Blackberry. "I'll get Cho on that."

She started typing with her bloody fingers, and Jane felt his stomach roll. She had blood on her shirt too, as if she'd been the one who was shot. It was too much to take on top of everything else. "Lisbon. Maybe you should just wash up first."

She turned her wide-eyed gaze on him, and it tugged painfully at his heart. He reached out to guide her toward the door. "Come on," he said softly.

Lisbon gave in and let him lead her to the bathroom, which worried him a little. "I'll get you a clean shirt," he told her as he held the door open.

She nodded, and he went to the men's room to wash his hands and throw his handkerchief away, then to her office where he knew she kept some spare clothes in case of accidents. He grabbed a black shirt rather than the nicer blouse, thinking it would better suit her mood, and went back to the women's room. He knocked on the door, then stuck his arm inside and shook the shirt.

She took it from him with a muttered thanks, and he shut the door and headed down to his car for his go bag. He desperately needed a change of clothes too.

While he changed in the gym locker room, he thought back over the day so far and realized that the corpse with the yellow roses at the cemetery had been forgotten. What if that had been intentional? He couldn't do much about the shootings in Bosco's office, but he could look into the other case to make sure it wasn't connected.

Lisbon resented his interrupting her interview with Rebecca, which wasn't a surprise. He'd have to go talk to forensics himself. He was just glad Partridge wasn't on this one.

mmm

Forensics was busy and refused to give him anything, since he wasn't an agent. Apparently personal communication had gone the way of the dodo and findings would be posted online. That didn't do him much good, he thought as he went back upstairs. He'd have to bug Lisbon again, much as he'd wanted to avoid that.

She'd recovered enough to spot that he might have a reason for his persistence, though, and decided to indulge him. "Fine. Cho, call it up. Forensics might have posted something by now."

Towlen Morning. It took Jane a moment to locate the name in his memory palace, but once he did a chill went down his spine. He didn't wait for anyone as he raced out of the office, focused on confirming his terrible suspicion as quickly as possible. The doctor's address in Stockton was safely in his memory palace, fortunately.

When he got to the doctor's office, he saw that he'd been right. The red smiley face was expected but still felt like a punch in the gut. This was Red John. And he'd given Agent Hicks his personal touch.

Jane didn't go into the room. He didn't need to. He'd had more than enough of bloody corpses for one day, and there would be no evidence here to find.

He was grateful that Lisbon and Cho had followed him; they could take care of the formalities. He needed to think. Red John had struck at the CBI, as Jane had always feared he might. But why? Had he known Bosco was keeping Jane informed?

No, wrong question. Why Towlen Morning? That was the question. Something to do with Carter Peake?

As he, Lisbon, and Cho talked it through outside, Jane realized that it all made sense. Bosco had found a lead. That lead had to be related to Carter Peake—Red John's mistake.

Red John made mistakes. This could be the break he'd been hoping for. If only he could find out what it was.

mmm

Jane thought hard on the drive back from Stockton, knowing the CBI wasn't conducive to concentration right now.

He needed to reconstruct what Bosco had been doing. Damn it, why couldn't the man have just told Jane what he'd found when he called? Jane hadn't made any critical contributions at the cemetery; he could have hurried back sooner, maybe while Bosco was still alive.

Could he have saved them? That was a haunting thought. Or maybe he'd just be dead too. Lisbon's face from this morning came to him, and he couldn't help imagining that her grief would have been even sharper if he'd been among the corpses. She saw herself as his protector, after all.

With an effort, he yanked his thoughts back on track. Whoever had sent Red John to kill Bosco and his team might have already removed any notes or evidence from the office. Or, given Bosco's irritating secrecy, there might not have been any notes at all.

The knowledge was locked up in Bosco's brain, at least while he lived. Jane needed to find out his prognosis and, if at all possible, question him.

He drove straight to the hospital instead of returning to CBI.

Hospitals were laughably easy to infiltrate, and the medical staff were generally not hard to fool. They were focused on their jobs and not on the lookout for scams. The doctor did ask who he was, but once he flashed his ID at her, she was extremely, if not entirely intentionally, helpful.

Lisbon was always on the lookout for a scam, at least when it came to him, and she arrived at a very inconvenient moment. "What are you doing?" she demanded, taking in his proximity to the medical equipment with displeasure.

Jane decided that telling her the truth was warranted. She'd had a crappy day, after all, and it wasn't likely to get better. "Unplugging his morphine. I'd ask a doctor to do it, but I think I know what they'd say."

"Are you crazy?"

Jane had never been on the wrong side of her mama bear attitude. It was really quite intimidating, if he'd been susceptible to that kind of thing. Which he wasn't. "Yes, that's exactly what they'd say. They wouldn't understand the moral imperative here."

He was a little frustrated that he had to explain it to her, but then she was dealing with a lot of emotion she usually kept locked down. If he hadn't already known that, little Miss Sheep Dip muttering, "God, you're a cold bastard," would have clued him in.

She didn't turn him in, though. She looked like she wanted to punch him, but she didn't tell the doctor what he'd done.

She knew, he realized. Despite the determined optimism in her words, she knew Bosco might die. Was likely to die, even. And she was terrified of losing another person she cared about. In the back of her mind had to be the idea that if Jane's plan worked, she could at least say goodbye.

He wished he had some comfort to give her. But he doubted she'd take any comfort from the thought that kept running through his mind: Red John had taken people from both of them. They had this in common now, or would if Bosco didn't make it.

As he hurried out of the hospital room, he reflected on the irony of the situation. Bosco had labeled Jane a victim the first time he rejected his help on the case. Now it was Bosco who was the victim.

But Bosco was also the key to catching Red John, the goal they shared. And when Jane found him, he'd exact the vengeance he was sure both he and Bosco now wanted.


	9. His Red Right Hand: Case Closed

**Author's Note:** Thanks for waiting patiently for this! There is at least one more chapter to come, and possibly an epilogue. We'll see how it goes. I envy all you writers who have outlines and such, but I'm afraid I usually wing it!

* * *

 **His Red Right Hand: Case Closed**

Jane spent a restless night pacing his motel room until he could reasonably go back to CBI. Lisbon would doubtless have sat up with Bosco until late, then stopped by to check on the case before going home to catch a few hours of sleep. The team was still working, he found, and best of all, they'd uncovered a lead in Bosco's cell phone records.

Jane tried not to get his hopes up on the way to Cloverfield, but they were dashed anyway when it turned out the body and all the evidence was long gone. It was only to be expected, of course, but it was still a blow.

Tracking down the morgue night shift supervisor took longer than either Jane or Cho wanted, especially since they were both expecting it to be a dead end. But the minute he described the ersatz Agent Rojo, Jane's heart began to pound. He grabbed his phone and pressed the key to speed dial Lisbon.

"What is it?" She sounded annoyed when she answered.

"It's Rebecca. She's Red John's mole in the CBI. Don't trust her."

"Rebecca Anderson?" Lisbon was shocked. "How do you know?"

"The morgue attendant just identified her." Jane began moving, following Cho toward the car. He might get left if he didn't hurry, judging by the intensity in the agent's set jaw and clenched fists. "She stole Carter Peake's body."

"Oh my God," Lisbon murmured.

"Are you at the hospital?"

"No, I'm at the office. But I'm heading there now."

"Be careful," he warned, but she had already hung up.

Cho started the engine and didn't even wait for Jane to fasten his seat belt before pulling out of the parking space and heading to the road.

mmm

Rigsby and Van Pelt had brought Rebecca in by the time Jane and Cho arrived at CBI. "Where's Lisbon?" Jane demanded, looking around the observation room in alarm.

"Still at the hospital," Van Pelt replied. "Bosco woke up while we were making the arrest."

"Good," Jane said, though he didn't really need to talk to Bosco anymore now that they had Rebecca. Still, for Lisbon's sake, he hoped Bosco would pull through.

Minelli looked grim. "Did you suspect her, Jane? Ever, even for a moment?"

"No," Jane had to admit. "I would've told Lisbon if I had." He wouldn't have left his team in danger deliberately. "I...didn't pay much attention to Rebecca, I'm afraid." He'd seen her only as someone he had to deal with to get to Bosco, focused on his quest to get the case back.

If he'd been paying attention, could he have saved Bosco's team? That was a crushing thought.

"It's not your fault," Van Pelt said firmly.

Rigsby added, "Yeah. She's worked here longer than you have. There was no reason to suspect her."

"That's right," Minelli said. "She's refused to say anything so far. I think she might talk to you, though."

Jane glanced at the interrogation room through the one-way mirror. "Take the table out," he instructed.

Minelli nodded, and Rigsby and Cho left to take care of it.

"Why?" Van Pelt asked.

"In her mind, she's rehearsed this," Jane said. "She knows how it works. I want to throw her off balance."

Sure enough, Rebecca seemed startled when the table was removed. Rigsby and Cho were perfect, not even acknowledging her presence as they carried it out.

"I need to be in there alone," Jane continued once they came back into the observation room.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Minelli asked.

"It's necessary," Jane replied. "Look at her. She's chained up, surrounded by cops who know she's a cop-killer. This is it for her, and she knows it. But she's got one more thing to do, and she's looking forward to it. She has a message."

He could feel them all looking at him, even though his gaze was fixed on Rebecca. For once he was glad Lisbon wasn't here. This might not be easy to stomach.

"Good luck," Minelli acquiesced.

"We're right here if you need us," Rigsby added.

Jane nodded as he left. He'd never had any doubt of that.

Rebecca looked up as he entered, smiling but not greeting him. She was obviously going to make him speak first. That was fine; he wasn't in a hurry.

Jane settled himself in the other chair. He usually made his body language relaxed in these situations, but he had a feeling that would be pointless here, and maintaining the act would take energy better used for other things. So he crossed his legs and arms, instinctively protecting himself, noting the triumph in her eyes as he did so. She knew he knew she was Red John's proxy, and she was savoring the sense of power it gave her.

He let the silence draw out, but she refused to be unnerved by it. She was well trained, but then she had to be, to maintain her cover among all the detectives in the CBI this long. She must be Red John's star pupil.

"What's your favorite kind of music?" he asked finally.

"Mr. Jane, please," she chided him. She was addressing an equal, not acknowledging her predicament. "I know your games. You don't care what type of music I like."

"I'm just making conversation," he shrugged. "Getting to know you."

"You want to know how I could do such terrible things for Red John," she guessed.

Jane proceeded to methodically dissect her psyche, to prove to her that he wasn't one of her marks. He wasn't interested in her particular psychosis, which wasn't all that unique. He only wanted to know the message Red John had sent her to deliver.

Her remark about him being similar to Red John was expected, but he still had to work to hide his distaste. He was glad his back was to his audience, and he hoped the comparison didn't unnerve them. He had to admit the idea unnerved him, a little.

Planting the idea that she was unimportant in Red John's eyes gave him some satisfaction, although she tried to make him believe he hadn't been successful. But he knew the truth. Someone who could sell her soul for validation wouldn't be able to keep out the niggling doubt about whether he really cared about her. It would take time, but her self-loathing would creep back without Red John's presence to shore her fragile ego up. And then she would tell Jane what he needed to know.

Her summation of Red John's twisted theology was interesting, if revolting. Jane made note of it to ponder later as he argued with Rebecca.

His last question was the genuine one: why attack Bosco and his team once the evidence was destroyed? Jane couldn't puzzle that out, and it bothered him. Even if she lied, the lie she chose to tell would be illuminating.

"You know why," she replied.

"No," he admitted.

"Oh, you don't." She sounded condescending now, which made it difficult to keep listening. "Red John thought you'd understand."

Well, it was reassuring he didn't think like a psychopath, Jane reflected. Maybe he wasn't so similar to his nemesis after all.

"I got rid of Bosco and his team so you could have the case back."

Jane felt like he'd been punched in the gut. As he worked to control his breathing, he could only imagine Minelli's reaction. They were both culpable in this, it seemed.

"Red John misses you," Rebecca continued. "And...it's what you wanted, too. Isn't it."

There was the message, Jane thought, a chill running through him. Red John was pointing out that Jane was not the better man, that they were more alike than he wanted to admit. It was a hard message for Jane to hear, but it would be a useful glimpse into the killer's psyche once Jane recovered from his revulsion and could think rationally about it.

He said goodbye to Rebecca, noting that her smugness was now gone. Her turn in the spotlight over, her purpose served, she had nothing more to look forward to.

Jane took a few deep breaths after she was led out, regaining his composure as the team came in. Cho's hand on his shoulder expressed more compassion than any words, which touched him, and he automatically noted the way the three of them gathered around him like a herd defending an injured member.

"You okay?" Van Pelt asked.

"Right as rain," Jane assured her, slapping his knees and standing.

"Good work, man," Rigsby said.

Jane smiled a little to show his appreciation. "The work is just beginning. It'll take time, but she'll tell us what she knows."

"Will it be enough?" Cho wondered.

"Maybe. It depends. If she holds out long enough, he'll have time to erase any clues we get from her," Jane replied. "But she may know more than he realizes. Maybe more than she realizes, even." He might need to hypnotize her, but he knew it was better to ask forgiveness than permission when it came to that.

"At least she'll pay for what she did," Van Pelt said. "Hicks, Martinez, and Dyson will get justice. Their families will get closure."

"Yes," Jane agreed. But it was really Red John who should pay. Bosco would agree with him, he was sure. "How's Bosco? Any word?"

Van Pelt said, "He was lucid when we arrested Rebecca. His wife should be landing soon, and I think Lisbon's planning to pick her up."

"That's good," Rigsby said hopefully.

Cho said, "So what next? Just sit and wait?"

"We should figure out how she destroyed the evidence," Jane said. "Find what's left of Carter Peake's remains. It probably won't give us much, but the place and method of disposal may tell us something."

"Right," Van Pelt said, eager to have a task.

Jane glanced at them. They really were the Three Musketeers, he thought: brave, good people from different backgrounds with a desire to serve and a fierce loyalty to their leader and each other. He was fortunate to have them. "But first, you guys should get some rest. You've been at it nonstop since the shooting."

Cho said, "We will if you will."

"Yeah, well." Jane rubbed at his neck, sore from tension. "Easier said than done in my case."

A nearby radio squawked, drawing their attention. "Suspect is down. She's down!"

No! Jane thought desperately. They couldn't lose this lead so fast. He tore down the stairs so fast he nearly skidded into the chain link at the bottom. "Don't touch her!" He cried out in warning. It had to be poison to act so fast.

When he reached her, it was obvious he was too late. She was gone, the wound on her hand pointing to the method of delivery. An autopsy would reveal more, but it was unlikely to prove useful. Red John had tied up this loose end, wasting no time and proving Jane's point: Rebecca had merely been a useful tool, to be thrown away once its usefulness was gone.

Dammit, Jane cursed in his head, pounding the wall in frustration. He hadn't anticipated this, but he should have. And now it was too late.

The team arrived a moment later, aghast that a prisoner could be murdered so easily in their own building. Jane turned and trudged back up the stairs, suddenly exhausted. All their efforts—all the deaths—would now count for nothing. They were back at square one.

His phone rang, but he ignored it. There was no one he felt like talking to now. He would go make himself a cup of tea and try to nap, see if his subconscious came up with any good ideas.

Cho found him in the kitchen. "Lisbon needs you at the hospital."

"Me? Why?"

"Didn't say." Cho paused, then added, "She didn't sound so good. Go."

The thought of seeing yet another death made Jane feel inexpressibly tired, but Cho's folded arms told him that he could go willingly or unwillingly. Not going was not an option.

"Okay." Jane took a sip of his too-hot tea, scalding his tongue, and set the cup and saucer in the sink.

As he drove, he wondered if Lisbon knew what had happened to Rebecca yet. Normally Cho would have told her, but if he was concerned about her, he might have decided to wait. The team would do their best to support her while Bosco hovered between life and death, even though they knew she wouldn't appreciate being coddled.

There was nothing pressing that needed done on the case, though. Jane decided it would be best to focus on Lisbon and let his brain have a rest from chasing Red John.

So why had she called him? She knew he hated hospitals, and he was unlikely to be helpful with medical personnel. She wasn't likely to openly ask for emotional support, either.

Maybe it was Bosco who wanted to see him? That seemed more likely. Unfortunately he didn't know anything more than Jane did at this point. Lisbon would have updated him on the case, so he wouldn't feel the need to help. Maybe he wanted to ask something. He hoped he would be able to set Bosco's mind at rest, for Lisbon's sake.

When he got to Bosco's room, he saw Lisbon perched on the edge of the bed, looking down at a very pale Bosco. She seemed to sense Jane's gaze on her and turned, then leaned down to say something to Bosco. As she got up, she beckoned to Jane.

They met just outside the door. "How is he?" Jane asked, though her face told him the sad news.

Lisbon shook her head. "He...he's getting weaker." She drew in a watery breath. "He says he has to talk to you."

"I won't keep him waiting, then." Jane touched her arm, trying to impart comfort, then went to the door. He shoved his hands in his pockets so they wouldn't give anything away, knowing Lisbon was watching closely. "Hey, Sam," he said, trying to sound like they were passing in the hall at CBI.

"Hey," Bosco replied, his voice a shadow of its former strength. "For the record, I'm very pissed off about this."

"Can't blame you," Jane replied. He searched for something to say. "Sam, uh..."

"We don't have time to be nice," Bosco cut him off, making it clear he hadn't summoned Jane for an exchange of apologies or any other non-macho crap. "Red John makes mistakes. This proves it. You will catch him."

"Yes I will," Jane agreed.

"Do me a favor. When you catch him, don't arrest him. Kill the son of a bitch."

"That's the plan," Jane assured him.

"Good. Listen." Bosco's voice was fading, so Jane had to lean in to hear his next words. He was beginning to slur his words, too, so it took Jane a second to distinguish "Listen" from "Lisbon." Jane glanced at her reflexively. "I..take care...Lisbon..."

"Bosco?" Jane whispered as his eyes closed and he fell silent.

Lisbon hurried into the room just as the heart monitor flatlined. Jane stood back out of her way, tempted to leave altogether, but Lisbon's voice as she said her dead friend's name stopped him. He wouldn't leave her too. He stepped closer, unable to find words for her but determined to let her know she wasn't alone.

A moment later the doctor and a nurse rushed in, and Jane took Lisbon's shoulders to pull her back and steady her while they went through the exercise of trying to restart Bosco's heart. Mercifully, it didn't take them long to determine it was pointless, and they stopped, leaving him in peace.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said, turning to them. "His family isn't here yet?"

Lisbon shook her head but didn't speak, not trusting her voice. Jane's hands still rested on her shoulders, and he could feel her shaky breaths.

"His wife is on her way," Jane said. "Can you...can you leave him here until she can see him?" He wanted to spare Mandy a trip to the morgue if he could. Bosco wouldn't want her to remember him laid out on a slab of metal. That was no way to remember someone.

"I can try, but if someone else needs the bed we'll have to move him."

"Thanks, Doctor."

She nodded solemnly, then left. Jane wasn't sure what to do now, so he asked gently, "Do you need a moment alone with him?"

Lisbon shook her head; they must have said their goodbyes before. Good.

After a moment, Lisbon stepped forward, leaving Jane to tuck his hands back into his pockets as she took hold of her cross in one hand and laid the other on Bosco's. He could barely make out her voice as she began to murmur a prayer, and he bowed his head. He didn't believe in prayer, but nothing in the world would make him interfere with hers. It would bring her comfort, and she surely needed it.

Before she could finish, her phone buzzed. She ignored it, so Jane quickly lifted it from her pocket. It was an alert that Mandy's flight would be landing soon.

Jane felt a rush of relief. Here was something he could do to be useful. When Lisbon fell silent, he said, "I'll go pick Mandy up and bring her here, okay?"

She turned, wiping at her eyes. "I'll go with you."

"If you'd rather stay—"

"No. He'd want her to hear it from me." Her voice grew stronger as she latched onto a duty she could perform.

"Okay. I'll drive."

She handed him her keys and took back her phone without arguing. Then she turned back to kiss Bosco's forehead and whisper, "Bye, Sam."

Jane blinked hard as he followed her out of the room.

* * *

A/N: I tried to think of something surprising for Bosco to say, but as I watched the scene I realized there was just no time for him to push out more than a few words, and they probably wouldn't have been terribly coherent, given how close to death he was. I also have to apologize for any medical inaccuracies. The only death I've ever been present for was in hospice, so that was different, I think. Thanks for reading and hopefully enjoying!


	10. His Red Right Hand: Grief

**Author's Note:** There will be at least one more chapter to this. A lot had to happen in that time jump in the episode, after all! I appreciate those of you hanging in there with this, and also with Wild Card, which I'm hoping to get back to soon. I know things have slowed down both in the fandom and in my posting frequency, so I am deeply grateful for all of you still reading!

* * *

 **His Red Right Hand: Grief**

As they pulled out of the parking garage, Jane snuck quick glances at Lisbon. The set of her mouth and the way she breathed deeply, as if her body were under a tremendous strain, worried him. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he said gently, "It's okay to cry, Lisbon. I'll never tell a soul."

"No." She swallowed hard, looking out the window. "If I start, I might not be able to stop. And I need to focus on Mandy."

This was how she dealt with grief, he realized: she pushed it down and focused on somebody else. She must have coped with her mother's death that way, and it was what she knew would work for her. She wouldn't descend into self pity and loathing like he had, because she was so much stronger. He admired her for that.

"Tell me about her. How did you meet?" He wanted to give her something less emotional to think about, though anything related to Bosco might backfire.

"They were newly married when I got to SFPD. She used to bring treats when we closed a case. Cookies and stuff. She likes to bake. Everybody loved her. She never forgot a birthday; she'd make cupcakes and stuff like that." She smiled. "For my one-year anniversary, she made a cake in the shape of the number one. Oh, and she always had a big dinner to celebrate his anniversary on the force. She'd invite us all over."

"The Martha Stewart of the force, hm?"

Lisbon managed a chuckle. "No. We all loved her because she wasn't that great at baking, but she tried so hard. Something always seemed to go wrong, like weirdly colored icing or cookies turning out dry. But we always ate it anyway."

Jane had long observed that overworked and underpaid cops would eat or drink almost anything, so he wasn't surprised. "Does she have any family nearby?"

"No. She was visiting her sister out east. She didn't say if she was coming too."

Jane frowned. He hoped Mandy hadn't come alone, because then Lisbon would feel compelled to stay with her, and she was exhausted. He wanted to take her home as soon as possible.

They reached the airport five minutes after the flight landed, and Jane parked in the drop off area, one of the advantages of driving a police vehicle. They checked the screens to confirm the flight was in, then headed to the exit from the security area. Getting through security with a weapon and no boarding pass would take time and energy they didn't have.

"There she is," Lisbon said after a moment.

Jane followed her gaze to a petite woman with dark brown hair and a generous figure. Her expression of dread would have identified her to him even if Lisbon hadn't. Her sister, though blonder, looked enough like her that Jane had no trouble picking her out.

"Teresa!" Mandy cried, hurrying over. "How is he?"

Lisbon drew a deep breath, but before she could speak, Mandy stumbled to a halt. "No. No, don't say it. No."

Oh, this was going to be painful, Jane thought. He glanced at Lisbon, whose flushed face and watery eyes pushed him into action.

He stepped forward, reaching for Mandy's hand. "Mrs. Bosco, I'm Patrick Jane. I work with your husband."

The present tense caught her attention, and she squeezed his hand painfully. "Yes, I—he's mentioned you."

"I'm not nearly as bad as all that," he said with a gentle smile and his most mesmerizing voice. "We're here to take you to him. Okay?"

"O-okay." She slipped easily under his spell, calming.

"Did you check any luggage?" Jane asked, releasing her hand.

Her sister said, "No, this is all we brought."

"Thank you," Jane replied. "You're her sister?"

"Meg Carson, yes."

Jane looked at Lisbon again. She'd recovered herself, and she stepped forward to hug Mandy, whispering as Mandy began to sob.

"He's gone, isn't he?" Meg asked Jane softly.

"Yes. I'm so sorry." Jane looked down to give her a chance to process it.

"Thank you." Meg nodded firmly, then squared her shoulders. "I appreciate you coming to get us."

"It's the least we could do." Jane ignored the pang in his heart when he thought how true that was. Bosco was dead because of the twisted game he and Red John were playing. He and Mandy shared a terrible bond, and her grief stirred alive the searing memory of his first moments as a widower. It was easier to deal with Meg and let Lisbon grieve with Mandy, but he would do his best to help all of them.

As a start, he took both their small suitcases and led them back to the SUV, getting everyone settled in for the drive back to the hospital. He was relieved that Bosco's body hadn't been taken down to the morgue yet, but he had no real desire to look at it again. Meg hung back in the hall with him, leaving Lisbon and Mandy to say their goodbyes in the room.

"Not long, then," Meg murmured.

"No," Jane replied.

"What happened? How could someone break into the CBI and shoot him? All of them?" Meg sounded incredulous and angry.

The truth would surely come out, Jane thought. And Mandy deserved it. "No one broke in. There was a...double agent, of sorts. Someone working for a serial killer they were chasing. We caught her, and he had her killed to keep her from talking."

"Good," Meg muttered. "What about the serial killer? Red John, right?"

"We'll catch him," Jane promised, his eyes still on the windows to Bosco's room. The blinds were drawn, so he couldn't see anything, but he hoped Lisbon wouldn't be in there long. He knew it was selfish, but he felt unsettled and anxious, and her presence was calming.

Meanwhile he would focus on practicalities. "If you need any help with the arrangements, I'll be happy to do what I can."

"Thank you. If you'll give us a ride to the house, I think we'll manage. I just helped with my father-in-law's funeral last year," Meg said. "I'm sure they need you at work."

Jane chose not to argue, though he doubted there was anything urgent needing his attention. Lisbon was certainly needed, he would bet, if only to talk to Minelli, who was doubtless struggling with guilt at having signed four agents' death warrants by handing them a case he knew should have been left with Jane.

Meg seemed content to lapse into silence, so Jane complied. Fortunately they didn't have much longer to wait before Lisbon and Mandy emerged. Mandy went straight to Meg, and the two sisters hugged. Jane gave Lisbon a quick glance, decided not to tamper with her fragile composure, and went to the nurses' station to tell them they could remove the body once they were gone. He made a mental note to send them flowers and a thank you note tomorrow.

The four of them got into the elevator. Jane was momentarily jealous of Meg's ability to comfort Mandy with an arm around her shoulders; his fingers itched to touch Lisbon, but he doubted she would welcome it. He compromised by standing close enough that their shoulders bumped and the back of his hand brushed against hers, but seemingly by accident.

Mandy gave a loud sniff, and Lisbon's small, strong hand wrapped around two of Jane's fingers and squeezed painfully. She kept looking straight ahead, though, so he rubbed her fingers with his thumb but otherwise ignored her grip. She let go when the doors opened, and Jane was simultaneously relieved to get the feeling back in his fingers and sorry for the loss of contact.

Lisbon slid into the passenger seat of the SUV, leaving the backseat to the sisters. They were quiet as they drove to the Bosco home, and when they got there, Jane busied himself unloading luggage while Lisbon made sure they had her phone number and offers of assistance.

Jane took the suitcases into the house and turned to make a quick escape, but Mandy stopped him. "Mr. Jane, Teresa says you were the last person he spoke to. Did he...have a message for me?"

Her big wet eyes implored him to give her the answer she wanted. The lie was certainly easier than the truth, for all of them. "Yes. His last thought was of you and how much he loved you."

She sniffed, then threw her arms around him. "Thank you," she choked out. "I'm glad he wasn't alone."

Jane wasn't sure what to say in response. He agreed that no one should die alone, but he didn't think it would be helpful to say he wished she'd been there instead. "Let us know if you need anything," he said finally.

To his relief, she stepped back, and he and Lisbon were able to say goodbye and get back in the car. As he pulled onto the street, Lisbon seemed to wilt, leaning her forehead against the window and closing her eyes. Jane stayed silent, giving her the illusion of privacy.

After a few minutes, she sat up and looked around. "You're going the wrong way."

"No, I'm not."

"The CBI is back there."

"We're not going to the CBI," he replied calmly.

"Yes, we are."

Jane hid a smile, greeting the return of her determination with relief. "No, we're not."

"Jane. Turn this car around right now," she ordered. "I have work to do."

"No, you don't."

Her narrowed eyes promised imminent mayhem if he didn't stop irritating her. "Jane. We have a suspect to interrogate. And a media shitstorm Minelli will want help dealing with."

So she didn't know about Rebecca, he thought. "You don't have a suspect anymore. She was poisoned on her way to holding."

"What?" Lisbon gasped. "Dammit!" She pounded her fist on her knee, then kicked the floorboards.

He focused on driving while she grumbled, pretending to ignore the evidence that she did in fact have a cop's dirty mouth when she wanted to. He was in heartfelt agreement with every word.

Finally, she cleared her throat. "Did you get a chance to talk to her?"

"Yes."

"Did you get anything?"

He winced a little at the desperation in her tone. He wasn't used to Lisbon being personally involved in the case, and he didn't like it. It was one thing for him to think he was an idiot for letting a witness slip through his fingers, but he hated the thought of her doing the same. "Nothing useful. It was mostly...disturbing."

"What did she say?"

Jane took a moment to think about it.

"Do not make me beat it out of you, Jane. You don't want to test my temper today," Lisbon warned.

He had no doubt about that. "I'm just thinking of how to summarize it," he deflected. "There was what she said, how she said it, and what she was trying to achieve. It was a...multi-layer conversation. She was well trained."

"She had to be," Lisbon sighed. After a moment, she asked, "What does that say about Red John that he could so easily throw away someone he'd put so much time and effort into?"

"That he's a sociopath. But we knew that. She did what she was supposed to do, so he was done with her. Her death was always planned. It was part of the point he's making."

"Which is?"

Jane grimaced, grateful to see her neighborhood ahead. "Can we talk about this when I'm not behind the wheel?"

"Okay." She gave him a look that both warmed him and put him on guard. She was emerging from the inward focus she'd allowed herself after leaving Mandy and noticing all was not right with him. He'd have to be careful not to overburden her by giving into his own need for comfort.

They didn't speak again until they were inside Lisbon's home. Jane automatically compared it to the last time he'd seen it, when they were trapping Carmen, and was pleased that the boxes were gone. She'd done some nesting, or else she'd cleaned up to avoid having him pry into the reasons behind her delay in unpacking.

She went into the kitchen, and Jane stood in the doorway, noting that she started to open a high cabinet, then stopped and bent to retrieve a tea kettle. If she was avoiding alcohol, she was upset enough to not trust herself to stop. Though she knew he'd look after her, didn't she?

A nice hot cup of tea would steady him, though. He decided not to look over her shoulder and went to sit on the sofa, taking a deep breath and thinking about his approach.

A few minutes later, Lisbon joined him, handing him a mug and cradling hers in both hands as she sat, just a little too close for his comfort. "Jane," she said, "look at me."

His heart gave a jolt as he remembered her saying that to him in Bosco's office, and he met her gaze reflexively. He knew he'd made a mistake as soon as he saw the glint of determination in her eyes.

"The truth. This is personal. I know you understand that. I want to know everything, not just what happened but what you think it means."

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "You owe me that."

She was hitting hard. Jane looked down, then nodded. "Yes, I do. We have the same goal, Lisbon. And now the same reasons. I'm not...I won't withhold anything relevant, but I don't think it's helpful to prematurely guess at conclusions before I've finished my thought process."

She snorted into her mug. "Guessing is what you do, Jane."

"Informed guessing, Lisbon," he was compelled to point out. "Not pie in the sky guessing. There's a process to it, even if you don't notice it. Sometimes it takes longer than others. Especially if I'm emotional."

She looked curious, no doubt wondering if his emotion was more about Bosco or Rebecca.

"I know this has been harder on you than on me," he continued, because he didn't want her to think he was ignorant of her distress. "But what I learned from Rebecca was upsetting."

"What did she say?"

He decided to skip to the end. She would doubtless watch the recording as soon as she could, anyway. "She said that Red John had her kill Bosco's team so I could have the case back."

Lisbon froze, blinking once as she took in his statement and its implications. Then she carefully set her mug down on the end table. Jane noticed that her hand shook. "So you think this is your fault."

Jane took a sip of his tea. "Intellectually I know it isn't. I didn't give up the case voluntarily, and I didn't imagine Red John wanted me to have it so badly he'd kill four people to make it happen."

"And if you had, I'd have accused you of making it all about you," she said firmly. "Nobody imagined this, Jane. Because we're not psychopaths. You can't blame yourself for that."

"It's my job to know how he thinks," Jane pointed out. "How else will I ever catch him?"

"We don't catch monsters by becoming them," Lisbon argued.

"No. But maybe that's why we haven't caught him. Because I don't understand him well enough. Though I certainly know more than I did a few days ago," he said, grimacing.

"I guess that's something," Lisbon sighed.

"It wasn't worth it," Jane muttered.

"No," she agreed, barely audible.

Jane sipped his tea again, and after a moment Lisbon reached for her mug and did the same.

"I understand a little better now," she said, almost whispering. "I mean, I know losing a friend isn't the same as losing your family. But I think I understand why you get so—so out of control about him now."

"I never wanted you to understand, Lisbon." Jane knew she must hear the emotion in his voice despite his effort to control it.

She nodded, quickly lifting her hand to her eyes. Jane reached for his handkerchief and put it in her hand, and she sucked in a watery breath as she dabbed at her tears.

Jane hesitated, then laid a hand on her shoulder. She didn't shrug him off, instead turning toward him a little, signaling that he could have the hug he wanted. That he needed, if he was being honest with himself.

He put his arms around her and felt hers wind around him, her fingers fisting in his jacket as she tried to calm herself. Jane laid his cheek against her soft hair and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

Red John had struck a harsh blow to both of them—and to the entire CBI. But he hadn't divided them, as he might have hoped. Instead, he'd given them even more reason to hunt him down.

Jane was keenly aware that, while the CBI needed him to catch Red John, he needed them as well. They furthered his investigative reach and kept him as emotionally healthy as it was possible for him to be. If he had any hope of killing Red John without turning into a monster, it was with Lisbon and her team. So looking after their wellbeing was in his own self interest.

That was what he would have told an interested observer. But in the privacy of his own head, he admitted that there was an emotional component to it as well. Caring about other people kept him from becoming a sociopath, and that comforted him, but it was also not entirely voluntary.

So though he would never say so out loud, when he killed Red John, it would be mainly for Angela and Charlotte—but it would also be a little bit for Sam Bosco. And when that time came, he hoped the knowledge that Red John no longer breathed would be healing not only to himself, but to the woman crying silently in his arms.


	11. His Red Right Hand: Funerals

**Author's Note:** I'm not quite finished with this, it seems. I think one more to come. Thanks to all of you still reading and especially those who let me know what you think!

* * *

 **His Red Right Hand: Funerals**

Jane owned a single black suit, especially for somber occasions. He didn't like it and never wore it unless he had to, but it was getting a lot of use this week. The entire CBI turned out for the funerals of Marlon Hicks, Nick Martinez, and Mark Dyson, held over the course of two days at three different locations around Sacramento. It was exhausting, and they were all wearily aware that Bosco's service still awaited after a single day off.

Lisbon led her team through the three funerals with a brave face, and Jane saw for the first time the true depth of comfort she drew from her faith. Martinez's funeral was in a Catholic church, and Jane watched her out of the corner of his eye as she participated in the service. It occurred to him that the prayers and crossing herself were as calming to her as dunking his teabag and lying on his couch were to him. It gave him a new perspective on religious observances. Not immediately useful, perhaps, but it resolved a tiny dissonance in his view of Lisbon as someone to be admired. If he viewed her beliefs as calming ritual instead of being taken in by improbable fantastical tales, he understood and identified with her better. It was a small relief, but he clung to it amid the gloom of their communal grief.

Of course, all the services were about the living more than the dead, helping them deal with their grief by giving them the (false, Jane believed) hope of seeing their loved one again in a new reality. He sometimes wished he could believe that, so he didn't begrudge it to those who did.

Van Pelt especially seemed to embrace the process, freely offering hugs to the agents' families and saying all the right things. Rigsby and Cho dispensed handshakes and condolences with the solemn air of those who knew that only chance had spared them this fate—at least this time.

The team hadn't known Martinez or Dyson well, but Rigsby in particular seemed affected by Hicks' graveside service, the third funeral. He'd saved Hicks' life during the kidnapping case, Jane knew, which had gone a long way toward bringing respect into the two teams' interactions.

Hicks had also been the only one killed personally by Red John, not Rebecca. The implications of that were particularly unsettling: a well trained, experienced agent on the Red John case had been caught off guard and suffered a gruesome death. If it could happen to Hicks, what was stopping it from happening to Van Pelt, Rigsby, Cho, or Lisbon?

Nothing but Red John's whim, apparently. As the coffin was lowered into the ground, Jane tried not to imagine one of his friends in it, without success.

After Hicks' funeral, several CBI agents held an informal wake in a bar near the office. Jane made an appearance, because it was the respectful thing to do and would spare his colleagues the trouble of explaining his absence. He spotted Minelli apparently doing the same thing and made his way over to him. "Virgil. Can I get you another drink?"

Minelli grimaced. "I shouldn't."

"Yes, you should," Jane replied, eyeing the slump of his shoulders and general air of defeat with misgivings. He'd been focused on Lisbon and her team, but Minelli obviously was struggling too. A little shoring up was called for. "Scotch?"

"Neat," Minelli confirmed.

Jane made his way to the bar for Minelli's scotch and a refill of his sparkling water with lime, his cocktail party standby. When he'd been a con man, keeping his wits about him had been a matter of survival; with Red John out there somewhere, it still was. Besides, the people he was closest to were grieving and might need him.

When he got back to Minelli, he was talking to someone Jane recognized as a moderately important person from the governor's office. But what struck him most was the barely concealed anguish in Minelli's expression. Jane moved close, handed him the scotch, and said to the other man, "Hello. Patrick Jane. And you are?"

From the look of horror on the man's face, Jane guessed that his reputation had proceeded him. "Michael de Vere, with the governor's office. Excuse me, I see someone I need to speak to."

He hurried off. Minelli lifted his glass in a toast to Jane. "Impeccable timing."

"Glad to be of service." Jane clinked his glass against Minelli's.

"Lisbon okay?" Minelli asked after a moment.

"So far, so good." Jane sipped his water. "How are you?"

"Me? Oh, fine."

Jane let out a huff of amusement, looking down for a moment before facing Minelli again. "You've never been less fine."

"Perceptive. But then, you always are." Minelli looked around. "I think we've been here long enough, don't you? I'm heading back to the office to get some work done."

"I could use a nice stroll," Jane agreed, finishing his water as Minelli downed the rest of his scotch.

They managed to get out the door without being roped into any conversations with bigwigs. Jane caught Cho's eye and nodded a farewell, knowing he'd tell Lisbon and set her mind at rest. She'd been slightly more protective of her team the last few days, noticing every unexplained delay or absence, and the last thing he wanted was to add to her unhappiness.

"We haven't had a chance to talk lately," Minelli said as they set off down the sidewalk.

"I haven't been hard to find," Jane remarked.

Minelli grunted a laugh. "No. You've been hovering around Lisbon like a hen with one chick."

Hovering? Jane wanted to take exception to the word, but on reflection he had to admit it wasn't entirely wrong. "She likes to know where I am. It saves her worrying I'm out there doing something to make her life miserable."

"She's a smart woman."

"Yes, she is." Jane smiled, then sobered. It was obvious Minelli was struggling with something. And he had a pretty good idea what it was. "It wasn't your fault, you know."

Minelli didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Yes, it was. Giving Bosco that damn case signed their death warrants." He looked down at the ground, his hands in his pockets.

"You couldn't have known. And it wasn't inevitable. Bosco could have let me work the case from the beginning."

"Only if you'd hypnotized or blackmailed him," Minelli retorted.

"True," Jane admitted ruefully. "But my point stands. Red John is responsible for their deaths. Not you."

Minelli heaved a sigh. "It doesn't feel that way."

"No, it doesn't," Jane agreed.

"It wasn't your fault either," Minelli frowned.

"It's hard to believe that when I got the case back over their dead bodies."

"Still true," Minelli said.

They walked to the corner and waited for the light to change. Jane let the silence stretch out until Minelli took a deep breath and said, "Have I signed Lisbon's death warrant giving her the case back?"

"No," Jane said immediately. "He has no reason to kill her or anybody on her team. They're helping me."

"Helping you chase him. What happens when you get close?"

"He's not afraid I'll catch him. He's too arrogant for that, thinks he's smarter than me. He enjoys the game, though. Every time I fail to catch him, he thinks that proves his superiority. Killing Lisbon would be an admission that I was his equal."

"How so?" Minelli looked at Jane curiously.

The light changed, and they stepped into the crosswalk. "Killing Lisbon would derail me, perhaps indefinitely. He would only need to do that if he was truly afraid of me. He'll never admit that. Ergo, Lisbon is safe."

Minelli let out a long sigh. "I hope to God you're right."

"I'd bet my life on it." In a way, he was. The life he had now was completely impossible to imagine without her.

"No, you're betting hers. And so am I." Minelli shook his head. "I hate this job sometimes. All the death and politics and general horse shit. You know why I've hung in this long? My people. I thought I was protecting them. The person who replaces me might not care as much, do as much." He sighed again. "But I did a crap job of protecting Hicks, Bosco, Dyson, and Martinez. Maybe it's time for someone new."

"Or maybe," Jane replied, "it's not. Did you ever think this might be part of Red John's plan? Making you quit, leaving the CBI to be taken over by some political flunky?"

Minelli gave a bitter chuckle. "Nice try, Jane. Don't worry. I'll make sure my successor knows to leave you to Lisbon's management."

"It's not me I'm worried about. Your people are grieving, Virgil. Don't add to it."

"I'm a reminder. Some may even blame me. No." Minelli took a deep breath and tried to smile. "A fresh start, that's what's needed. For them and for me."

Jane couldn't begrudge him that. He longed for a fresh start as well, but that was impossible as long as Red John was alive. It might be impossible even then. Reluctantly, he abandoned his nascent plan to hypnotize Minelli to abandon thoughts of retirement; it would only have been temporary anyway. The man was obviously at the end of his strength.

"You won't talk me out of it," Minelli continued. "But I won't announce it until after Bosco's funeral. And I'll tell Lisbon privately."

"Good." It would be a blow to her, Jane knew. He'd make sure he was around for her afterward.

"Just promise me one thing."

Jane's heart sank. Minelli's request was unlikely to align with Jane's plans, as Bosco's had. "What is it?"

"Don't get Lisbon fired, okay? Her new boss might not be as understanding as I am."

Relieved, Jane said, "Rest assured, Virgil, that Lisbon shall have her job as long as I have anything to say about it."

They reached the gate for the CBI parking lot and waved to the security guard, who waved them through somberly.

"You're sure I can't talk you into staying a while longer?" Jane said. "Just a month or so."

"No. This job needs somebody who's a hundred percent committed, not somebody who's watching the clock. It's better if I go now." Minelli paused at the door. "I can't say it's been a pleasure exactly, but I think hiring you will turn out to be the best decision I made at the CBI. After Lisbon, of course."

"Thank you, Virgil. For everything." Jane shook his hand, then watched him enter the building.

Apparently things were going to get worse before they got better.

mmm

Two days later, Jane took the precaution of showing up at Lisbon's place early in the morning, an hour before Bosco's funeral was supposed to start. She was dressed and nearly ready, and he realized he'd cut it close.

"What are you doing here? Is something wrong?" she demanded, stepping back to let him in.

"No, nothing's wrong," he assured her. "I just thought I'd give you a ride."

She frowned, closing the door. "Thanks, but I'd rather drive myself."

"No you wouldn't." He'd expected some resistance; she was in for an emotional day, and she'd want some privacy.

Lisbon sighed. "Jane, look. I appreciate you being there for me when Sam died, and don't think I haven't noticed you trying to cheer up the bullpen the past few days. But I don't need to be taken care of, okay?"

"I know that," he lied. "I was just ready early and thought we might as well carpool. I could use the company." Seeing she was unconvinced, he added a bit of truth. "I, uh, didn't sleep much last night."

She gave him a look that was part sympathy and part suspicion. "I know what you're trying to do. It's really not necessary."

"I know that. But the best things in life are the unnecessary things, don't you think?" He summoned a smile. "Think of it as doing me a favor."

"Right," she muttered. "I don't have the energy to argue with you. Fine, you can drive."

"Thank you, Lisbon, for your generosity," he said with a straight face. "Would you care to get some coffee, since we have time?"

"I promised Mandy I'd get there early and help make sure everything is set up. That's why I'm ready now."

"Ah. Well, I'm happy to offer my services as a professional observer, then."

"Just don't make any trouble," she ordered, putting on her shoes.

Jane waited until she finished, grabbed her wallet and keys, and came over to him. It took her a second to make eye contact, and he gave her his most sincere look. "No trouble today, Lisbon. I promise."

"Thanks," she said, her expression softening as she opened the door.

Lisbon didn't offer any conversation on the drive, and when they reached the cemetery, they were the first ones there. Lisbon inspected the seating and flowers, ignoring the tactfully covered grave. Jane roamed the perimeter, trying not to think about the last time he'd been here. It was almost inevitable that one of the four funerals would be in Alexandria Cemetery, but he wished it had been one of the others.

Eventually one of the cemetery employees showed up, then the officiant, and then Bosco. Jane stood beside Lisbon as the casket was placed above the grave, keeping his musings on the ridiculousness of modern funereal customs to himself. He'd splurged blindly on his family's funeral arrangements, after all.

For himself, he thought he'd rather be cremated and scattered in the ocean. No one would be coming to visit his grave. Not that he'd been able to bear visiting the expensive headstones that graced Angela's and Charlotte's.

He was relieved when people began to arrive. Most of them were from the CBI, though there were a fair number of Mandy's friends and coworkers as the seats filled. Cho arrived just before Rigsby and Van Pelt, and they came over to say a brief hello that was cut off when Mandy and her sister arrived.

"Teresa, thanks for all your help," Mandy said softly as they hugged. "And Mr. Jane, thank you for the flowers. They're lovely."

"It was the least I could do," he replied, smiling somberly at her and Meg.

Mandy turned back to Teresa. "Sit with us, please. There's no other family, and I don't want us to be the only two people in the front row. Mr. Jane, you're welcome to join us too."

Jane was relieved he wouldn't have to leave Lisbon. "Thank you."

As they sat, Jane noticed the team immediately behind them, but he didn't see Minelli anywhere. There was quite a crowd, though, so maybe he'd just missed him.

Mercifully, Mandy had decided not to have friends speak at the service, just a eulogy by the minister. Jane doubted the man had known Bosco well, but he'd obviously spoken at length to people who had, since he told a series of funny and touching stories. Lisbon managed a few chuckles along with the rest of the attendees.

But then it was time for prayers and the conclusion of the service. Everyone stood, and a bagpiper began to play "Amazing Grace." Jane heard sniffs from nearby and glanced over to find Lisbon with her head bowed, one tear rolling down her flushed cheek.

He pressed his handkerchief into her hand, and as Mandy began to cry, leaned over to whisper into Lisbon's ear, "If Bosco's looking down on us, he's probably muttering 'stop this sentimental crap and go have a drink.'"

Lisbon hiccuped a laugh, then elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Jane managed to stifle his cry of pain—the woman didn't know her own strength—and rubbed his injury, glancing over his shoulder as he heard someone, probably Rigsby, snort. Jane caught Cho's eye, and Cho nodded at him in approval.

Lisbon held onto her composure as the service finished and people began to file past Mandy to give their condolences. Most people had to go to work and didn't have time to chat for long, for which Jane was grateful. Soon they were saying goodbye to Mandy and Meg and escaping to the quiet of the Citroen.

"She'll be okay," Jane assured Lisbon as they drove off.

"You can't possibly know that," she said wearily.

"When are you going to stop doubting me, Lisbon? Mandy is grieving, but she has no more regrets than any loving spouse might have. She's not overwhelmed with guilt or self-loathing. And she has her sister and friends to support her. She will be okay, in time."

Lisbon looked at him for a long time before responding. "Did you have someone?"

"No. A con man doesn't have friends, and I had no family. My in-laws tried to be supportive, but they'd never really liked me in the first place, and they were dealing with their own grief. And my old friends...well, I'd left them behind with the carnival. My wife and I had each other, and we thought that was all we needed. It's only recently that I've come to see the advantages of a support network." He hoped she was getting his point about not grieving alone.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I can't imagine how bad it would have been when my mom died if I hadn't had my brothers." She looked out the window for a moment. "I'll be okay too, Jane. You don't need to worry."

Of course, she didn't know about Minelli yet. "I know you will," he agreed. He'd make sure of it.

mmm

Lisbon had a meeting for the rest of the morning and then a court appearance in the afternoon. It really was a crappy day for her, Jane thought, lying on his couch and contemplating life, death, and the mixed blessings of being a survivor.

"Hey," Rigsby said, hurrying into the bullpen, "I just heard from Rogers that Minelli's retiring!"

Dammit, Jane thought. Minelli should have told Lisbon before it got out on the grapevine.

"Really?" Van Pelt gasped. "When?"

"Effective immediately," Rigsby said.

Cho was looking at Jane. "Did you know about this?"

"I had an inkling. I tried to talk him into waiting," Jane replied, sitting up. "When is Lisbon supposed to be back?"

"Not until the end of the day," Cho replied.

Jane watched the three of them exchange looks and decide none of them were leaving until they knew she was all right. He certainly wasn't, but he was pleased they were sticking around too. He could admit to himself that he enjoyed their company, most of the time.

"It's a shame," Van Pelt sighed. "I hope we won't get some jerk as a replacement."

If they did, Jane resolved, he'd take care of it.

"Guess we'll find out," Rigsby said, sitting at his desk with an air of gloom.

Jane lay back down. Then he got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Cho asked.

"Errand to run," Jane called over his shoulder as he left.

mmm

When Jane returned, he settled in Lisbon's office. The team was hard at work in the bullpen running down alibis in the case they'd caught yesterday. It was a waste of time, since Jane already knew the killer was the victim's business partner, but he knew they needed to check all the boxes for their paperwork.

When Lisbon came in, he knew at once she'd talked to Minelli. But she was putting up a brave front. "Hey."

"Hey," he responded. After a pause, he added, "I heard about Minelli. I'm sorry."

She was dry eyed, but her voice held hints of the tears she wouldn't shed. "Jane? You and Bosco, at the hospital." She moved to sit next to him on the couch, probably to better gauge his truthfulness. "What'd he say?"

Jane was grateful he had a piece of truth to give her. "Well, he, uh...he told me to look after you."

She nodded with the trace of a smile, believing him. But she asked, "That's all?"

Of course. She was a detective, and she'd seen him and Bosco say more words to each other than his account explained. "No. He said that if I didn't look after you, he'd come back and haunt me."

Lisbon grinned, buying it.

"Total nonsense of course," Jane continued, reaching for the bottle of tequila he'd bought earlier. "But it wasn't the right time to correct him."

"Tequila. Bosco's favorite," she noted.

Jane poured them a toast. "Sam Bosco."

"Sam," Lisbon echoed as they clinked glasses, then drank. "Ooh. The good stuff."

"He'd definitely come back and haunt me if I bought cheap tequila for his toast," Jane pointed out. He raised his glass again. "Virgil Minelli. The man who brought us together."

Lisbon made an exaggerated grimace, but drank the toast. "I can't blame him," she said softly. "But I wish he wasn't leaving."

"That's natural."

"He told me to shoot you if you got out of line, you know," she said. "Said no court in the land would convict me."

"Probably true," Jane chuckled. He had no fear she'd actually do it, of course. "You could certainly find enough character witnesses to convince a jury that I richly deserved it. Including Virgil himself. And Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt, of course."

Lisbon looked out into the bullpen. "We should share this with them."

"Sure." Jane got up and held the door for her, then followed her into the bullpen.

The team gathered at the conference table, since they had the bullpen to themselves. Jane and Lisbon had already drunk just enough so they were one shot short, and Rigsby had to go get some scotch. Lisbon didn't wait for his return, raising her glass.

"Sam Bosco," Cho toasted.

"Damn fine agent," Lisbon added as the four of them clinked glasses.

Lisbon and Van Pelt drank; Cho and Jane abstained. Cho rarely drank anything but beer, and Jane figured he'd had enough. Cho drank from his water bottle, and Jane took a tiny sip from his glass so as not to seem rude.

They chatted about the service, and Rigsby, picking up on the bagpipe talk, began to sing "Amazing Grace." Lisbon and Van Pelt joined in.

Jane, never one for hymns, quietly left them to it. They would be okay, he realized. It had been a hellish week, but they would push on. It was time to stop worrying about them and get back to figuring out Red John. He had new data points now, after all.

He hadn't been up to Bosco's office since the shooting. It was a good thing he didn't really believe in ghosts or psychic phenomena; his own memories made it hard enough to walk in. He left the lights off so as not to draw attention to his presence.

It wasn't hard to find the Red John files; the team had been actively working the case, after all. Jane sat down and began to go through them, looking for anything new. Then he made his way through the old files, trying to see them through the lens of his new knowledge, courtesy of the late, unlamented Rebecca.

He would make some good come of this tragedy if he possibly could. It was all he could do for the dead agents—and the live ones downstairs trying to comfort each other. It might take a while, but what he'd learned from this case would help him catch Red John.

He was sure of it.


	12. His Red Right Hand: Aftermath

**Author's Note:** So this is it, the last chapter of this saga. Thanks so much for reading, especially if you also reviewed. I've enjoyed revisiting this period in the show and hope you did too!

* * *

 **His Red Right Hand: Aftermath**

Jane lost track of time reading the Red John files in Bosco's darkened office, concentrating so completely that he actually jumped when Lisbon said, "There you are. I should have known."

"What time is it?" It felt very late; why hadn't she gone home?

"Nearly midnight. Everyone's gone home. You're not going to sleep here, are you?"

She was trying to joke, but he heard real worry in her voice.

"No. I just lost track of time." Though he regularly haunted the CBI in the wee hours, the brutal murder of the agents who'd occupied this office had made the building feel less safe. Lisbon felt it too, which was why she was making sure she was the last one out. She'd obviously forgotten he'd driven her to work after the funeral, but then, so had he until now.

"Why don't you take those out to your desk? Or keep them in my office if you'd rather." She looked around, blinking a little too quickly. "We should get all the active case files to other teams. And box up the personal effects for the families."

He could see her cataloging the list of things to be done that no one was thinking about now that Minelli was gone. He wanted to take her home to rest, but he doubted she would go. Her empty home probably felt like the edge of the abyss. He knew what that was like.

He stood, putting the lid on his file box. "I'll get started on the Red John files if you want to dig out the others." Accomplishing something would help her feel in control, he thought.

"Sure." But her gaze skittered away from the bloodstain where Bosco had fallen.

He'd miscalculated. "We don't have to do it tonight. Leave it for tomorrow. Come on, I'll drive you home."

"No. Don't be ridiculous. We should have done it before now. The families shouldn't have to wait any longer for the personal effects. I'll grab some boxes; you get started moving the Red John files." She turned and left before he could protest.

Jane hurried to move the files to his desk, but she beat him back to the crime scene with four empty boxes. True to form, she went to Bosco's desk first.

"Let me do that," he said.

"No. He'd want me to handle it." Her voice was steady, but her hands shook a little as she hesitated over the desk drawer.

Jane went over and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Lisbon." He waited until she looked at him, then bent at the knees so they were at eye level. "He told me to look after you. Let me."

She blinked, then swallowed, nodded, and moved quickly away, busying herself at Dyson's desk.

Jane approached Bosco's desk with caution. He'd ended up respecting the man, but that wasn't why he was being careful. It was Lisbon's furtive glances he was concerned about.

Neither of them had anything to worry about, he thought a few minutes later. Bosco's desk yielded nothing more incriminating than a stash of restaurant mints, and precious few personal belongings. Apart from the photo of his wife he kept on his desk, there were only a few odds and ends that might have personal significance. Jane put the random pens emblazoned with business logos, squishy miniature sports balls, and a bobble head doll of a sports player in the box, shaking his head a little. This was what a life came down to, he thought. Odds and ends, their stories lost when disconnected from their collector.

Just to be thorough, he did a careful search of any hiding places in the chair and desk. Bosco had been a little paranoid, after all, about the Red John case.

Sure enough, his fingers found something tucked into the back of the top desk drawer, where it wouldn't be easily found. Heart pounding, Jane gently extracted it, examining the photo. It wasn't connected to Red John, but it was just as fascinating.

"What is it?" Lisbon asked, coming over to see what he was staring at. "Oh. Wow. That must have been ten years ago."

Jane smiled a little, memorizing the young Lisbon in the photo. "You were cute in that uniform."

"I hated it," she replied. "I busted my butt to make detective as soon as I could. I ran across a suspect Bosco was looking for while I was on patrol. That's how we met. He gave me my shot." She smiled, remembering. "Most of the guys thought I'd never make it. I was young and short, which they thought meant weak. But Bosco saw me take down his guy, and he knew I had it in me."

"Smart man," Jane said, and he meant it. In the photo, Bosco's body language was that of a colleague. He must have fallen for her later, after knowing her better. He hadn't just lusted after an attractive woman, as most of the men she went out with did. Bosco had loved her as she deserved: for the complicated woman she was.

It was too bad he'd fallen for someone else first, though Jane suspected Lisbon would need a more complicated man to be happy in a relationship. She'd never had it easy in her whole life; she wouldn't know what to do with easy. Deep down, she wanted a challenge, a fight for what she deserved. That was how things worked in her world.

"Yeah," she sighed, bringing him out of his reverie. "He was a great detective. I know you didn't think so, but—"

"Just because he was set in his ways doesn't mean those ways were bad," Jane corrected her. "I thought he was a good detective." Just not an exceptional one, which was the only kind he could work with effectively.

A wry smile tugged at her lips as she glanced at him. "It's weird when you try to be nice," she said.

"Weird?" He was mildly insulted, but exaggerated his expression for her benefit.

"Yeah. Keep trying, though; eventually you'll get it."

He chuckled, his heart lifting a little at her teasing. Then he handed her the photo.

"No. Mandy should have all this stuff," she said, giving it back.

"I think he would have wanted this to go to you." Jane held it out to her again. He was certain Bosco wouldn't have wanted his secret to become apparent to his wife.

Lisbon blushed, confirming Jane's guess that Bosco had managed a declaration before he died. Good for him, but he hoped Lisbon wouldn't carry any guilt about it. Her little frown as she accepted the photo told him otherwise, though.

"You know you're not responsible for what other people do," he said softly.

She snorted. "Says the man who holds himself responsible for what a psychopath did."

"Touché," he agreed. "But just because I don't take my own advice doesn't mean it's not good advice."

"A ringing endorsement," she said dryly. Then she looked around at the office. "Jane?"

"Yes?"

"Are there others? Like Rebecca?"

He swallowed. He'd been hoping she wouldn't think to ask until later. But he wouldn't lie to her. "Probably." Red John was a planner, after all.

"How do we catch them?"

Jane had no desire to start a witch hunt in the CBI, whose agents were shaken as it was—including the ones he cared about. "I've been thinking about that. It won't be easy. Rebecca never did anything to indicate she was a danger before she acted. Anyone this close to us will be well trained."

"But you're good at spotting liars," she said, desperation shading her voice.

"Most of the time, yes. But that assumes I see them lying. Effective double agents compartmentalize. They inhabit their role and don't think about their other identity unless activated. It makes them almost impossible to spot."

Lisbon stared at him for a moment. "Then we don't know who we can trust. We'll never know until it's too late."

"We know some of the people we can trust. Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt. But anybody else has to be suspect, yes." The stricken look in her eyes cut at him. He was supposed to protect the team from deception; they relied on him for that, and he had let them down. "I'll be on the lookout from now on, of course. Especially Minelli's replacement and anybody who seems curious about us. And I'm sure I'll think of ways to test them."

"Preferably without getting me fired," she muttered, but she was calming down.

"That depends on how mean you are to me," he teased.

"Ha, ha." She was silent for a moment. "How many people do you think there are? One? A dozen?"

"No way to know right now," Jane admitted. "Probably only a few. It takes a particular kind of person to live a deception. He'll have to have some kind of hold on each of them, either a kind of loyalty or blackmail. The number will be limited by how much time and attention he can give them."

Lisbon nodded thoughtfully, then yawned.

"We could leave this until morning," he suggested again. Seeing her mouth tighten, he changed tactics. "Or take a break and grab some tea, catch our second wind."

"I could use some coffee," she admitted. "Van Pelt can help me sort out the case files in the morning, and Cho will probably have some suggestions about reassigning them. There aren't as many personal effects as I thought."

"Not everyone lives in their office like you do," he replied.

She grimaced. "Yeah, well, they had help with the paperwork."

Jane remembered wondering why Bosco rated an assistant and Lisbon didn't. But though he was confident he could wrangle her one, he knew now that they'd never be able to trust a newcomer so close to them. It would end up causing more problems than it solved.

Lisbon seemed to be thinking along similar lines. "Given how that situation turned out, I guess I can't be jealous anymore."

"No. You'll have to be content with your consultant instead of pining for a paper-pusher."

She shook her head. "Content, huh? I can't say I associate that word with you. Enraged or annoyed is more like it."

"Spoken like a woman who needs some coffee. And possibly a muffin. Come on; I know an all-night diner a few blocks from here."

He pretended not to hear her sigh, "Of course you do," as she went through the door he was holding for her.

mmm

Jane noticed that Lisbon wasn't surprised when the diner staff greeted him like an old friend. She was obviously putting the pieces together and realizing he often came here when she badgered him to leave the CBI, instead of going to his motel to rest as she'd always assumed.

The place was empty at this time of the night, or more precisely morning. Jane led the way to his usual booth, smiling as Claire, the waitress, offered them menus. "My usual, please," he told her. "And a coffee for my friend. Two sugars and cream, please."

"Coming right up," she said briskly, moving away.

"Did you want a snack?" Jane asked Lisbon.

"No, just coffee."

"They make a mean blueberry muffin here."

"I'm not hungry."

"Grief does that. You have to eat anyway." He eyed her with concern, trying to remember when he'd last seen her eat.

"I know that," she grumbled.

He resigned himself to getting to eat only half his usual muffin.

"And sleep," he added, deciding to push his luck.

"Oh, like you're one to talk." She rolled her eyes at him as Claire returned with Lisbon's coffee and his tea and muffin.

"Listen," he said when they were alone again, "I know what it's like to wake up from a nightmare and have no one to assure me it wasn't real." It doubled his misery to discover he was alone with his terror, but he decided not to mention that. He didn't want her to know that he hated beds now because to find himself alone in one felt like losing his wife all over again.

Lisbon looked across the table with so much compassion it was almost a physical force, but a friendly one. Her voice was almost a whisper as she said, "I know you do. But you can call me. Anytime." She tried to smile. "It'll beat being called out to a crime scene, that's for sure."

He smiled at her. "Thank you." As if he would risk interrupting her much-needed sleep for such a trivial reason. "But you know that works both ways, right?"

"Sure. Thanks." But he could see from the set of her mouth that she was as likely to call as he was. What a pair they were, he reflected. Stubborn and self-sufficient. They would both rather suffer in silence than ask for help. And even if he broke down and called her one night, she would never reciprocate. She was by far the tougher of the two of them.

But he was by far the more wily.

They sipped their beverages in silence. Jane broke off bits of the muffin, which he placed between them within Lisbon's reach. He stopped after eating half, but it took her an agonizingly long time to take a piece when she thought he wasn't looking. It was a real sacrifice to abandon the delicious remnant to her tentative attention, but he distracted himself plotting how he might induce her to let him help her.

By the time she stifled a yawn and said, "I should go," he had the makings of a plan. "Of course. I'll take you home."

He didn't need the check, but Claire brought it anyway, smiling as he handed her a twenty and told her to keep the change. Lisbon pretended to ignore the exchange, but he knew his random acts of generosity both annoyed and charmed her.

She was struggling to stay awake by the time he pulled up to her home, which meant his plan's chances of success were good. Maybe even 80-20.

"I know you're tired, but would you mind if I came in for a quick cup of tea? Just to make sure I don't fall asleep at the wheel on my way home."

Her shoulders slumped a little, but there was no way she could say no. "Sure."

"I'll brew it myself," he assured her as he got out of the car.

Following her into the house, he busied himself in the kitchen, getting a quick snoop in under cover of looking for teabags and a suitable mug. He brewed her a mug of chamomile he knew she wouldn't drink, to be polite.

Her kitchen was small, so she hadn't hovered over him, but she'd waited in the living room, having relaxed only enough to remove her jacket. She accepted the mug he handed her but grimaced as she sniffed it.

"It'll help you sleep," he pointed out.

"I don't care," she replied, turning to set it down on the coffee table.

Jane took a few sips of his tea, waiting for her to relax a little more. "Do you think you'll be able to?"

She sighed. "I hope so."

"I could help."

She huffed a little laugh. "Offering me a backrub?"

He blinked. "No." Then he recovered from his surprise. "Although I'm told that's one of my more useful talents."

Lisbon's eyes narrowed. "I know you're not offering to hypnotize me, because you know what I'll say."

"Hypnotism would be overkill in this case," he assured her. "Just a slight suggestion planted in your subconscious to help you sleep deeply."

"No, thank you. I'll sleep just fine once you leave me to it."

"Glad to hear it," he said cheerfully. "If anyone deserves the peaceful sleep of a clear conscience, it's you. I envy you."

She frowned, but he wasn't sure if it was because her conscience wasn't completely clear (whose was, after all), or because of the implication that his own insomnia was due to guilt. It didn't matter, though, because her moment of introspection was his opening.

"Anyway, it would be almost impossible for me to hypnotize you again," he lied. "You're wise to my tricks now, not nearly as susceptible as other people might be."

She held his gaze. "Yeah?"

"A trick doesn't work once you've seen past the trickery." He pitched his voice to comfort and reassure, the exact timbre he'd used to hypnotize her. "How many times have you watched me use a light trance? Ten? Twenty? One hundred? Surely by now you've built up an immunity."

Actually the truth was the exact opposite: having hypnotized her once, he knew the keys, and it was easier the second time. But if she knew that, she'd never look him in the eye again.

"But it doesn't matter," he continued, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Because no matter what I say, you'll go upstairs and have a deep, restorative sleep. You'll say your prayers and feel lighter and calmer, tonight and all the nights to come. And if for some reason you feel too sad to bear it, you'll call me, and when you hear my voice you'll remember you are not alone and there are still people in the world who love you."

She was well and truly under, he saw. He hoped this would help, though with someone as stubborn and self-controlled as Lisbon, it was possible it wouldn't last long.

Patting her shoulder to rouse her, he said, "Thanks for the tea. I'll be on my way and let you get to sleep. See you tomorrow?"

She blinked, frowned briefly, and nodded. "Sure. Thanks, Jane."

"For what?" he asked, heading for the door.

"You want a list?" she grumbled, following him and holding the door open as he paused.

"No. Good night, Lisbon." He smiled, pleased she felt he'd been helpful.

"Good night, Jane."

mmm

His phone rang the following night. "Good evening, Lisbon," he greeted her. "Or is it? Are we up?"

"No." There was a long pause. "I, um...I just wondered if you had any more thoughts. You know, on how to spot moles."

He grinned. Of course she wouldn't admit she didn't know why she'd called, or that she needed cheering up. "A few. Nothing amounting to a plan yet. The only useful thing I can tell you is that you should trust your instincts. Don't override them because someone is a colleague. If something seems off, be careful what you say."

"Great," she sighed. After a moment, she rallied. "So if someone seems untrustworthy, I shouldn't give them the benefit of the doubt just because they work for the CBI?"

He knew where she was going with this. "Precisely."

"Great. Then I can stop trying to trust you."

He chuckled. "Nonsense. You know exactly how much to trust me in any given situation."

"Yes. Not at all."

"Now, now. No need to be nasty," he chided. "Just because I haven't memorized all the silly rules in the CBI employee manual doesn't make me completely untrustworthy. You can trust me to solve cases, for instance."

"In the messiest possible way," she retorted.

"In the most expedient and comprehensive way," he corrected. "You can also trust that I will protect you and the rest of the team."

"Except from the wrath of our bosses."

"On the contrary, I have always accepted responsibility for my own actions."

"But you don't seem to accept that as your supervisor, I'm also responsible for your actions," she argued, a familiar note of exasperation in her voice.

"Because that's ridiculous. How can you be responsible for things you can't prevent? Obviously the things the powers that be dislike would never happen if you were able to prevent them."

"It's called a chain of command, Jane."

"Just because it has a fancy name doesn't mean it makes sense."

"Says you."

"Obviously."

She snorted, and he stifled a chuckle, deciding that he'd distracted her from whatever bout of grief had prompted the call. "Don't worry, Lisbon. I promise to make an effort to charm your new boss. I have no desire to break in your replacement. The mere thought is exhausting."

"Ha ha."

"I'm serious. I have a vested interest in you keeping your job, so there's no need to form an ulcer worrying about it. Just relax and let me work."

"Have we met?" she demanded.

Jane smiled. "Just for tonight, then. Relax and get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. Get some rest yourself. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Lisbon." He hung up the phone and looked around his dreary motel room, then sighed and closed his eyes. Her call had been a bright spot in his night, and he selfishly hoped there'd be more in his future. Not that he wanted her to be sad, of course, but that was inevitable under the circumstances. He didn't think it was wrong to hope they could both benefit from the occasional chat as a result.

What a mess. Ever since Minelli had overreacted and reassigned the Red John case, Jane's world had been shaken from its orderly course. They'd learned more about Red John: his methods, his level of access, and his twisted way of thinking. But the knowledge had cost four lives, an honorable and trustworthy superior, and the emotional wellbeing of his teammates. Despite Jane's determination to put no obstacles in the way of his vengeance, he couldn't help but think it hadn't been a fair price.

But he knew better than anyone that no amount of wishing or remorse could change the past. All he could do was go forward and try to make things better, in whatever ways occurred to him.

He yawned, then smiled. Maybe Lisbon would enjoy a little soft-shoe one of these days.


End file.
